Fitness File: Perspective

Yes, it's been a while since I wrote about fitness. Truth be told, I've been rather fickle about my fitness routine over the past several months and didn't think it worth documenting my slovenly downward spiral. But, as of late, I'm back on the horse (again), so I thought I'd share the latest in my fitness musings.

I'm back to running, but I need to make time to do it more frequently. Right now, I'm only fitting in 1-2 runs a week, and that's just not enough to convince my body this is going to be a regularly occurring thing, so I'm going to try to go at least 3 times a week going forward. It's just been kind of difficult because I struggle so much with my breathing.

I brought my breathing problem up to my doctor at my recent annual check-up. The problem: after about a mile, I get severe side stitches and have so much trouble getting enough air, I feel like I'm drowning. Every time, it literally feels like a miracle that I'm able to go an additional mile before stopping. The doctor had me take a breathing test and concluded that I have exercise-induced asthma. I kind of suspected, but, of course, my husband thinks I'm just a hypochondriac. Half the time he's right, so who knows. I've got a prescription for an inhalant now and will see if it helps at all.
I've also been trying to cut myself some slack and put things in perspective. I may not be marathon-ready (or even 5k-ready, at this point, to be honest), I could probably never withstand the 'bootcamp' exercise classes some brave folks I know endure, and I might be pretty inconsistent with my exercise routine, but I'm making sincere efforts and it does feel good when I do get out there (well, after I stop really, but you know what I mean). It's all in your perspective, and a couple of encounters I had while out running recently gave me even more of that.

Earlier this month, I was on the last leg of my run (you know, the part where I feel like I'm drowning but still throwing one sneakered foot in front of the other nevertheless) and feeling pretty crappy about still not being in better form, when I turned a corner and came upon a woman walking briskly on the sidewalk ahead of me. She looked pretty old, was wearing long pants and a sweater on a warm day, . . . and had clearly suffered a stroke in the past. One entire side of her body was almost wet-noodle limp, . . . yet she was keeping a pretty decent clip.

Then, after a run last week, I was cooling down and walking home when a man in his fifties sidled up next to me to introduce himself as a neighbor from across the cul-de-sac community walkway. He told me he exercises twice a day . . . and that he's had 10 strokes. This was evident from his speech and the fact that he was steering his mobility scooter awkwardly with one arm. We chatted briefly and then parted ways as our paths diverged.

Dude, if these folks can get out there and exercise regularly, there is absolutely zero excuse for me not to. The measure of success need not be in mileage or minutes. The fact that we're out there at all and doing something positive for our health should be incentive and reward enough. It's not always easy to remember or internalize that, but I'm going to try a little harder to do just that.

Fitness File: My Health '401K' & the Holiday Crisis

It's been a while since I wrote a "Fitness File" post because, well, to be honest, I've been a shiftless slug the past couple of months. What's caused this? Crazy work load? Lack of motivation? Yes and, um, yes . . . because it certainly isn't because I love the complete lack of energy I seem to have all the time, and it definitely isn't a desire to see the squishiness around my midsection morph into a belt-camouflaging muffin top - the former being the current result and the latter being the imminent future result of my not exercising.

I've still been fencing off and on, and that's really great exercise . . . but doing it for a couple of hours on the occasional weekend isn't exactly going to counteract making short order of an entire 16-oz. bag of Trader Joe's Tempting Trail Mix over the course of just three days. People! It said "Tempting" right on the package! How was I to resist?

In all honesty, I'm not that upset with myself though. Why? Because, this time around, I think I started out with the right attitude. I acknowledged upfront that there would be ups and downs, progress and setbacks. Just because I've stumbled doesn't mean I'm down for the count. Granted, it's going to be quite the challenge with heavyweight hitters like Thanksgiving and Christmas right around the corner ready to land their TKOs, but I think I'll be okay if I continue to think about my investment in my health like an investment in a 401K and the upcoming holidays like the current financial crisis. Just because I don't see immediate results, doesn't mean I should stop investing. Just because the numbers don't seem to be going in the right direction at this very moment doesn't mean they won't. Things may improve slowly, but they will with time, and I'll be happy later in life that I weathered the setbacks and continued to invest when I could, even if it's not always a lot.

Other Fitness File Posts

Fitness File: Fencing

When I lived in Pasadena, my friend Randy was the fencing coach at Caltech. I had watched him and his wife compete at tournaments and had met many of their fencing friends at their house. It looked like lots of fun and they all encouraged me to give it a try, so I finally did. I feel really lucky to have had Randy teach me my first lessons. He was extremely positive and patient, I got a very solid grounding in the basics, . . . and he worked my butt off!

At the end of 2005, when I moved to the Ventura County area, I told myself I'd get back to Pasadena to take more lessons from Randy and fence with my Pasadena friends, but the demands of my new job and the hour distance ended up being bigger deterrents than I'd anticipated. And then Randy and his family moved out of state. :( It was quite a while until I felt I had the time and energy to bring fencing back into my life, but I finally got around to it last year and found a great group of people fencing at the Conejo Club at the Conejo Community Center in Thousand Oaks. I've been fencing there on Saturdays off and on ever since. I'd been pretty busy over the summer and didn't have many opportunities to go, but, earlier this month, I did finally pick up where I left off and I hope to keep it up.


In fencing, there are three different weapons - foil, sabre, and epee (see here to the right) - and the weapon you use dictates what is considered target area on your opponent (see above). You'll notice that the bell that covers the hand is bigger on an epee than it is on a foil. That is because the arm is part of the target area when you fence epee and you need more protection from attacks on that arm. Similarly, the bell on a sabre extends around the hand because the hand is actually considered a valid target when you fence sabre. (Note: the shaded areas on the illustration I copied and pasted here are slightly off because the hand is valid target area for sabre.) . . . The goofy get-up is the same regardless of what weapon you fence though.

Some argue that the smaller target area is more challenging. Others argue the larger target area is more challenging. I think that's nonsense. Each just demands a different style of fencing, a different strategy. I fence foil because that's what I learned and because most people fence foil and it makes it easier to find people with whom to fence. It's lots of fun and a great workout. (The protective gear is hot and you do a lot of lunging.)

To the left here is what the Conejo Fencing Club's badge looks like. As some of you may know, conejo is Spanish for rabbit, which is why we have that darting rabbit on there.

What? You don't think a bunny rabbit will intimidate our opponents?? I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss the ferocity of the hare, my friend . . .

Fitness File: Cycling

When I was 4, my cousin taught me how to ride a bike. There I am to the left here, in all my dorky glory. Don't ask me what I'm holding in my hand. I don't know. Probably my life-time membership card to the "Kids Who Wear Hot Dog on a Stick-Inspired Clothes and Enormous Stickers on Their Foreheads Club." (That sticker had probably been there all day from kindergarten. But, hey, at least it helps me date the photo - The jack-o-lantern means it must have been October.) And that snazzy ride? A bike my grandfather salvaged from the dump. The bike chain didn't always stay on its track, so sometimes I'd be pedaling to nowhere like a Looney Toons character and fall right over. And kids today need training wheels. Pshaw!

When I was 8, my grandfather bought me a brand-new, pretty light-blue bike with a seahorse on it . . . and then I won one just a week or two later through a city-wide cartoon contest on the theme of energy conservation sponsored by the local newspaper. A child from each grade won a bike. There I am with my prize to the right. It didn't have gears (I just missed the age cut-off for the 10-speeds), but it had a sweet, sparkly red banana seat.

All these years later, and I've still never owned a bike with gears. Until now. One of our friends got us a bike as a wedding present 3 months ago, so we went ahead and purchased the companion bike that goes with it - a Schwinn Southport Women's 7-Speed Cruiser - so we can ride together. It's been a busy summer, so Matt hasn't had much time to put them together and fine-tune the gears and brakes until this weekend. (I would have done it myself, but I'm not that mechanically inclined. And that's not me buying into some self-defeating stereotype about women; I'm just honestly not that mechanically inclined.) So, today was the first day the bikes were close enough to being completely assembled that I could take mine out for a test spin.

After doing some running these past couple of months, you'd think I'd be better prepared to ride a bike. Yes. You'd think. The reality, however, was that after a little over a mile and half of riding, I had some difficulty walking when I got off and my quads were scer-EAMING. I was immediately reminded of the time in high school when members of the girls' and boys' cross-country track teams were paired off to participate in a 10-mile run-and-bike race - one boy, one girl, one bike. There I was, still a big dork and turtle-paced to boot, paired off with a popular senior guy who was a decent runner. Neither of us had our own bike, so we were given some orphan bike with wonky gears to use. The senior thought he was being chivalrous by saying I could ride the bike pretty much the whole time while he ran, but the bike was so bad, I actually had a hard time keeping up with him! And, when I got off, my quads were so overworked, I could hardly run. The result? Let's just say my partner was pretty bummed we didn't win. (Kind of hard to do when your teammate is yakking on the side of the road somewhere around mile 6 . . . .)

Anyway, I'm hoping to erase that memory by replacing it with some more positive biking experiences. And I'm hoping it will be an activity Matt and I can enjoy doing together. He has a bad biking memory he needs to rid himself of too - he took a mean header on his bike in grad school, broke his helmet, and gave himself a concussion. He hasn't been back on a bike since. To encourage him, I bought him some biking accessories for his birthday, including some biking-appropriate apparel, a water bottle and water bottle rack, and a Schwinn 17-Function Bike Computer that tracks distance, time, speed, and fat and calories burned.

I plan on keeping up with the running, but I think biking is going to be a nice alternative exercise for me, especially given my flat feet. And I'm also hoping, while I'm out and about on my bike, I might run into Moorpark's cycling poet, J.R. Rolly. While driving to or from the supermarket or the post office, I've often seen the 82-year-old (who donated his car to the Salvation Army) wearing his signature red blazer even on the hottest days, plugging along on his bike, teetering and weaving as he makes his way up the hill near my house. I'd love to have a conversation with that crazy old dude.

Fitness File: Allies & Saboteurs

In a previous post, I talked about motivation and willpower as fluctuating internal forces that we need to watch out for when trying to stay true to a fitness regimen. What I didn't delve into were the external forces . . . and some of them are so close to home, they might as well be internal! Our friends, family, and significant others play large roles in our lives. Even the most independent thinkers amongst us, those of us who think we have wills of iron, are influenced by them. Sometimes that's a good thing . . . and, other times? Not so much. For instance, . . . as I've made efforts to get back into shape, my husband has been very supportive, trying to stock our refrigerator with healthy options for meals and snacks, cooking healthier dinners, toiling away in the back yard trying to put together the bikes we purchased, and even going for a run now and then himself. Most days, he shows great solidarity and is my best ally. However, some days, he fights me over things that seem like no-brainers to me, like portions. For instance- yes, an Italian red sauce is a healthy choice . . . but not when you have it on 1/2 pound of pasta, topped with a blizzard of grated Parmesan cheese, and accompanied by 1/2 a loaf of buttery garlic bread.

And I can't claim to be faultless in the diet-and-fitness support department. We each bring different strengths and weaknesses to the table (sorry, pun intended). Matt's portions may be out of proportion, but I'm a sucker when it comes to using "bad" foods as rewards or treats. For instance, Matt really loves Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby but can never find it in our local grocery stores. I know we're trying to eat healthier, but when I saw it in the store the other day, I "couldn't help" but buy a pint, weakly justifying it by equating the purchase with showing my husband some TLC. So, yes, I've become "the pot calling the kettle black." I mean, if buying your husband a pint of Chubby Hubby isn't being a diet saboteur, I don't know what is. One might also ask what I was doing browsing in the ice cream section in the first place when I "stumbled" upon it . . . .

Fitness File: Flat Foot Floogie

I fancy myself a rather logical, practical gal, so it is with deep shame that I must admit that I have often purchased running shoes in the past . . . based on their appearance - "Mmm, I love the orange accents on these Nike Reax!" (That's them there to the left, my last pair of sneakers.) I mean, I would try them on, jog around in them a bit, and make sure they fit, but their appearance would still play an integral role in my decision-making process. The funny thing is that, despite this decidedly "girlie" tendency, I've actually found the majority of women's running shoes hideous - the pinks, lilacs, and teals looking like something straight out of Barbie's closet. Those orange Nikes were actually out of the men's department! But, still. In sports, choosing fashion over function? Foolish.

With my recent foray back into running, I decided to finally do the right thing and get a proper assessement of my feet and the way I run. I'd heard they do that at Road Runner Sports, so I headed over to the one in Newbury Park Saturday afternoon. They had me walk across a sensor pad to record where I was exerting the most pressure on the soles of my feet and then videotaped me running on a treadmill to analyze my gait (see image to the left - not me, but what it actually looks like). (Note: seeing my calves in slow-motion from behind afterwards? Kind of cruel.) They told me something I already knew - I'm pretty flat-footed - but I also found out that I pronate pretty badly too (see image to right here, not my actual feet - I'll spare you that).

They also measured my feet properly, which I haven't had done since I was a kid. Shoe stores have become so self-serve these days that there are hardly any that do this anymore! I've always had big feet, so I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that I would always have trouble finding shoes in my size, nevermind shoes in my size that were cute ("cute" and "size 10" just sort of never go together), but I was still a little bummed to hear the clerk say I should really wear a 10 1/2 when I'm running (because you need room for expansion when your feet get hot and swell). I thought about asking if paddles and life vests came free with the purchase of these canoes, but, again, this trip was about growing up and doing the right thing by my feet, so I saved the self-deprecating humor for another time.

The clerk showed me three shoes they had that were best-suited for overpronators, in the "stability plus" category, (by New Balance, Asics, and a running shoe brand I'd never heard of before - Brooks) and introduced me to Superfeet inserts with a modest level of arch support (a different brand of inserts I'd used in the past were brutally painful). I jogged around a little in each pair, with the inserts in place, and, in the end, I chose the pair that felt the most supportive and comfortable - a pair of women's Gel-Kayano 14s by Asics. Correction - a pair of TURQUOISE Gel-Kayano 14s. (*sigh* The things I'll do in the name or practicality.) Asics served me well when I ran track in high school, so that gave me added assurance that I was making a good choice.

The clerk warned me to take it easy the first few times I run in the new shoes because my muscles and tendons will have to adjust to being aligned properly, and I have to say it does feel a little weird. Because overpronating feels normal to me, when I run properly aligned, I feel pigeon-toed! But I think I can get over that quickly enough if I can get some relief from the chronic shin splints to which I'm prone (a problem resulting from the flat feet and overpronating). Here's hoping!

Fitness File: Log Your Run

Well, here I am 2 weeks later and happy to say I'm still giving this fitness thing a fair go of it. Am I making remarkable progress? No. I'm still plodding along at a labored 10-minute/mile-ish pace and I max out at just over the 1 1/2-mile mark. But, you know what? I feel good. I've noticed immediate improvements in my energy level, mood, and food cravings. I'm building stamina; feeling positive and motivated throughout the day; and finding myself genuinely wanting lighter, healthier meals and snacks.

I've also stumbled upon a neat little online application called Log Your Run which allows you not only to do, well, what it obviously suggests but also log other types of exercise activity too, such as walking, cycling, swimming, strength training, and cross-training. It has endless features (e.g., articles, a blog, a calendar, etc.) that make it ideal for someone training seriously for a race or event, but it's also simple enough for someone such as myself who's just interested in keeping track of my progress and routes. I would highly recommend it. If you're put off by the thought of adding yet another site to your list of those that you need to check in with on a regular basis, you'll be happy to hear that you can also sync it up with your Google home page or Facebook.

Fitness File: 1st Steps

I'm happy with my life and myself. I'm not obsessed with scales, dress sizes, the mirror, or counting calories (despite my tongue-in-cheek April post), but I decided I'd had one too many consecutive days (months?!) of feeling lethargic, out-of-shape, and unhappy about how my clothes were fitting me, . . . so I strapped on a sports bra, laced up my sneakers, and went for a run today.

OMG . . . There's nothing more defeating than that first foray back into the world of fitness. You've finally scraped together enough motivation to actually do something about your sad situation only to find out Things Are Worse Than You Thought! I ran. Slowly. For barely 20 minutes. When I finished, I was completely out of breath, my face was flush with every ounce of blood in my body, I had to fight the urge to regurgitate breakfast, and there wasn't a muscle in my body that wasn't screaming (even though, yes, I did stretch).

The obvious challenge I have ahead of me is whipping my butt back into healthier shape. What I need to admit to myself, though, is that the mental component of that challenge is going to be just as difficult as the physical component. I was bean-pole skinny throughout my childhood, adolescence, and much of my young adult life, and I ran track all through high school, so there's a part of my brain that has this notion that running and getting back into shape should be easy for me. This, of course, is the same part of my brain that has conveniently forgotten that my high school track-running days were 16 years ago.

I had done a good job back in 2006 of learning how to eat better (thanks to Weight Watchers), but I fell off the wagon and never got back on. Now, my plan is to combine the good eating habits I learned at WW with a much more regular exercise routine. And to keep myself accountable to this new mission I've set for myself, I'm going to try to keep track of how I'm doing on this blog.

I'm starting out from the standpoint that this should be a life change, something ongoing, so I'm not going to set a weight or dress size goal like I did with WW. I'm just going to judge my success by how I feel and work at maintaining good habits indefinitely. So, you can expect "Fitness File" to be a regularly occurring post from here on out.