I'm a glutard? Great.... is there a scholarship for that?

Urban Dictionary, yes I’m referring to Urban Dictionary because it makes me laugh, defines a glutard as “One who does not possess the enzymes necessary to digest gluten, a main ingredient in wheat products. One who is "glutarded" must only eat gluten-free foods, such as water, tofu, and air.”  I have Coeliac’s disease and I am a glutard.  One of the reasons I wanted to start a blog was so that I could help those individuals that were just finding out they are glutarded.  It’s a really hard pill to swallow at first, and I remember feeling so overwhelmed that I didn’t know what to do with myself.  I remember the only thing I ate for the first two weeks was snickers bars and Chex cereal.  I do get asked a lot of questions about being GF, so hopefully this can be a good resource.

So what is Coeliac’s Disease?  Coeliac disease is an autoimmune disease of the small intestine that occurs in genetically predisposed people of all ages from middle infancy onward.  Three years ago, Coeliac’s disease was unheard of.  I can remember going to restaurants asking for a gluten free menu and the waitress staring at me like I had two heads.  I would walk into a store and there would be one shelf of gluten free specialty items.  I had to be sure to read the expiration dates, because most of them had been sitting on the shelves for months.  Today, I can walk to the end of my street to Giant Eagle and there’s an entire isle dedicated to GF.  I feel like every day new people are reaching out to me saying, “I’ve been diagnosed with Celiac’s or a gluten allergy.”  It makes me wonder why when I was diagnosed over three years ago, GF was almost unheard of outside of the Autism world.  Now, I feel like doctors are telling people not to eat gluten to cure everything from headaches, to rashes, to depression.  I’m not a doctor, so maybe they’re all right.  I just know that with GF becoming a “trend”, it’s definitely bringing on a lot of new marketing material for food companies everywhere. 

November 26, 2009 was the last time I ate gluten.  Yes, Thanksgiving 2009 was the last time I got to enjoy things such as bread, stuffing, pie, cakes, cookies, rolls, gravy and green bean casserole.  Now have I eaten these things since then?  Yes.  This day in age, you can pretty much find a gluten free version of any food.  Does it taste the same you ask?  No.  But I can’t taste the difference anymore because it’s all I know.  On Friday, November 27, 2009 I was officially diagnosed with Coeliac’s Disease.  I now refer to this day as the day that saved my life.  Most people do not understand this.  They always say, “Oh, I’m so sorry.  I feel so bad for you that you can’t eat good food.”  My first response usually is, “I eat good food.  Actually, I eat better now than I ever have in my life.”  Secondly, although it has taken me years to get to this point, I have learned to have a new relationship with food.  It’s no longer something I comfort my emotions with, use as a way to socially gather, or even “work for”.  It’s become a fuel for my body.  I look at food differently than I used to.  This is a topic for another blog.  Back to GF.

When you have Celiac’s, you literally cannot eat gluten.  Plain and simple.  It's not a choice.   It’s not like an, “oh I’ll just eat a little here and there and not cut it out of my diet.”  Some people will do this; they will continue to be sick throughout their lives and will probably end up with a colostomy bag, missing part of their insides.  If gluten gets into my body, it is not a pretty site.  To be honest, within an hour or two it looks like I’m 6 months pregnant, sometimes I’m covered in a rash and I spend the next three to five days laying on the floor of the bathroom crying in pain while having it come out both ends.  I know, probably too graphic.  But it’s reality.  And it sucks.  But, “it is what it is”.  So I’ve learned to live with it.

I encourage you to purchase a few books and cookbooks about GF living.  Elisabeth Hasslebeck’s The G Free Diet book is really good. The first cookbook my BFF bought me was You Won’t Believe it’s Gluten Free, and I still use it today.  But until you can get to the store, or download them onto a magic device, don’t panic.  Here are a few quick tips:  

•      You CANNOT eat anything with wheat, rye, or barley.  No white, wheat, or bleached flours.
•      You CANNOT have beer.  Unless it’s a GF beer or cider. 
•      You CAN eat fruits, veggies, meats.  This is pretty much what I eat every day.
•      Be careful with marinades.  Most are not GF.
•      You can still eat chocolate.  Just be sure to read all packages.
•      You can eat most ice creams (check ingredients), yogurt, most cheeses (no blue cheese), milk, and other dairy products.  I have decided to cut out dairy, so these aren’t on my list much anymore.
•      Look for items that have xanthan gum.  Gluten is a binding agent, so often times xanthan gum is a substitute used for gluten in products.
•      You’re going to need to say goodbye to fast food.  Plain and simple.  There are a few things here and there you can eat, but it’s really not worth it to risk the cross contamination.
•      Eating out is difficult.  Most places do not fully accommodate for gluten allergies.  It is getting better, but be sure to check with the server that the foods are truly prepped GF. 
•      You’re going to have to start allocating time for food prep every week.  I do all of my food prep on Sundays.  It takes me about three hours.  It’s the only way I can control the environment my food was prepared in and know what every ingredient is.
•      Don’t go out and buy everything that is prepackaged, processed and labeled GF.  Most of it is very expensive and higher in calories than non GF items.  Learn to eat fresh.
•      Things you will be surprised are NOT gluten free = soy sauce and Worchester sauce.  You need to look for gluten free specific soy sauce.  Remember that most Chinese, Thai, and other ethnic foods contain soy sauce.  So you will probably have difficulty eating out at these restaurants.  PF Changs is by far one of the BEST GF restaurants in the industry.  They keep separate prep areas, ingredients and dishes. 
•      Nothing with bread crumbs.  No meatballs, meatloaf, and you’ll need to check ingredients on burgers.
•      The foods you love now – pizza, cheeseburgers, sandwiches, subs, everything fried – they are not gluten free.  They can all be made to be GF, but to be honest they will never taste the same.  So mourn the loss of them now.  Don’t hang onto it.  And just think of all of the calories you’re skipping out on.
•       Find a really good GF bakery in your town for those times when you need a “treat”.  If you don’t have one in your town, I know the best in the industry and I know she’ll ship anywhere.  Geri is the BEST.  HANDS DOWN. http://www.cherbourgbakery.com/index2.php#/home/
•       And the most important one.  Don’t freak out.  Don’t be sad.  It’s not like being a glutard is a disability.  Think of it as your own special super hero power.  And look at it as a new and exciting opportunity to embrace healthy eating and living. 

As always, if you have any questions, please feel free to email me at jessica.nasse@gmail.com. 

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3.2.13. #1. Got. Done.

3.2.13.  A day that I had looked forward to for so long.  My first marathon.  While when I began this journey, I said I would only do a full marathon once, I found myself two weeks out from the race and secretly thinking about when the next one would be.  The ironic thing is that most of what I will write today, has been written before.  A lot of it is fact.  But I have learned that even though you tell someone something exists, they need to experience it on their own to fully understand.  Every emotion, phase, thought, feeling I had throughout this journey was typical of most endurance athletes.  It doesn't matter if they run a 6 minute mile or a 16 minute mile, the training and mental process has a lot of the same pieces.

There was a lot that happened in the week leading up to the race, but I've decided this post will just reflect on the day before and the day of the race.  The night before the race, I met with my coaches to go over the plan.  Of course, I had a list of about 30 questions to ask them, but was taken off guard when Coach Jeff walked in and handed me a piece of paper with 5 times on it and said, “here you go, here’s your plan.”  I felt my eyes get huge and the WTF look come upon my face and thought, “ Shouldn't it just say finish in 6 hours? Wasn't that the goal? We've never trained for a specific time… why now?”  I looked at the paper and looked at Coach Ryan and instantly my eyes were filling with tears.  Panic.  Doubt.  The numbers on that paper would have me finish at 5:30.  That’s 30 minutes than the goal that was set 20 weeks ago.  Just finish.  The cut off time was 6:00.  Ryan, who has a lot of insight into how my brain works, what I need to process, took the piece of paper away from me and said, “It’s ok, we’re going to sit down and answer all of your questions and look at this.”

Small tangent, but also I feel it is an important piece to this process.  Most people would say I share too much with my coach.  For example, I would agree to some point that he doesn't need to know things like when my time of the month is (some women think that’s too personal to share… which confuses me… women have periods… anyway,), but in my logical brain he does need to know these things.  Listen.  We all know that women are emotional.  It happens.  So if I’m going off the deep end screaming and yelling about my workout, or my run and how I don’t feel good, blah blah blah blah – if he knows it’s just that time – it puts things into perspective for him that I’m not cramping in my stomach because of the ab workout he gave me and I might be hurt.  I’m cramping and whining like a brat because I’m letting my emotions surface.  These are usually the times where I need him to email me back and say HTFU.  But if all things physically, with my diet, with everything else are going well – he knows when I have questions it’s that my brain needs to have them answered in order to fully understand the situation and what I should do.  Most times I just need an explanation to get the confusion and question out of my head, then I move on.  So, as I've mentioned before, I ask a lot of questions.  It not only settles me, I also learn from it.  Being coached isn't about being told what to do.  It’s about learning what to do.

As we began to plan for the race ahead, I began to ask about every detail.  What pace I would keep, when I would walk, how I would fuel, what I would wear, what the goals were and how we were going to go through the aid stations.  I asked it all.  And of course, my continual doubt in myself and lack of self-confidence, asked Jeff, that has coached thousands of athletes, statistical questions.  How many people had he trained to 26.2?  How many had completed in the times he wrote on that piece of paper?  How many had gone to race day and not crossed the finish line at all?  Of course there’s always stuff that can happen during a race, but I wanted to know what the true statistics had proven in the past about my success that day.  This is contradictory to my philosophy that I always speak that “anyone can do whatever they want if they’re willing to work hard and put in the work.”  In that statement, no logical proof is needed.  But when I let doubt and fear into my brain, I instantly resort to needing facts and truths to settle my brain.  That’s me.  And I recognize that, so I am always aware of the process going on.

After all of my questions were answered, and tears were pouring down my face, I asked the question I had asked so many other times.  “On a scale of 1-100.  What do you believe is the percentage I have to finish this race?”  Like it had been every time before, the answer was “100%”.  Sometimes in life you just need to know that your dream and your goals are not too far out there.  You need to have someone that has experienced what you’re going through, believe in you.  Friday was filled with a few moments of panic.  Tears quietly fell a few times during the day as I doubted what I was about to do.  I don’t know why I was doubting myself.  I had done the work.  I followed the plan.  But as I have learned in the past few months, you have to recognize the emotion.  Feel the emotion.  Be in the moment.  It is ok to feel the emotion.  Don’t feel guilty and push it down to some deep dark place that will someday open its flood gates.  That’s just delaying the inevitable.

The week leading up to the race was very emotionally overwhelming for me.  I was receiving messages, cards, flowers, gifts, texts… just because I was going to run a race.   People were saying, “You’re such an inspiration! You inspire me!”  I think I have mentioned this before, but I have a hard time with this.  Every person reading this has the opportunity to lose the weight you want.  Change your life.  Run the race you dreamed of.  The only thing that separates me from you is a choice.  I choose to have dreams and I choose to sacrifice and work hard to achieve them.  Every day I wake up I just want to be better than I was the day before.  Friday night, I received a message with three words.  You are worthy.  I realized that for me, my emotional breakdown and logical thinking that needed satisfied that day was just a coping mechanism for what the reality was of this moment in my life.  26.2 wasn't all just logical process.  It was also about self-worth.  Something I have continued to struggle with through this whole journey.  Feeling worthy that I deserved that medal.  That I was about to become and endurance athlete.  That I had become a new person.  Feeling worthy to receive the benefits of what I have worked so hard for.  I looked at my phone.  Reread that message 10 times.  Took a deep breath.  Closed my eyes.  And had the best night’s sleep I had all week. 

The morning of the race I didn't wake up nervous.  It was just another weekend long run.  I have done a weekend long run almost every weekend for the past few years.  I had laid out all of my stuff the night before.  Got up, drank my coffee, at the same breakfast I had been eating for almost every day of this training cycle, and laced up my shoes ready to go.  The Phoenix marathon is an “out”.  What that means is they drive you 26.2 miles out into the middle of the desert, and the only way you’re getting home is to make it to the finish line.  Literally, you could see the finish line from our hotel window.  It was 4:30 am in the morning, so it was dark as night.  They bus you out on school buses, so it’s kind of fun to remember what it was like to be a kid on a school bus again. 

The start line was out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by the most beautiful mountains I had ever seen in my life (I’m certain my mind will be changed on this when I go to Colorado).  The moon was still out, lighting the sky.  The sky was the clearest I had ever seen.  There’s no humidity in Arizona, so things are clearer all the way around.  They had camp fires and heating stations set up everywhere.  And at least 30 PortaJohns, which is good for such a small race.  Since it was an out race, you knew that every person there was doing the full marathon.  We all had just done weeks and weeks of training.  We were all united with a silent understanding of each other. 

As we walked to the start line, the sun was rising over the mountains.  Start time was 6:30 am.  Even now, if I close my eyes, I can still see the beautiful orange glow.  I can honestly in my 31 years of life it was the most breathtaking and peaceful moment I have ever experienced.  I can’t even begin to explain how picture perfect the moment was.  It’s literally like seeing a picture come to life.  You always see pictures of amazing places, and they are this fantasy world you think does not exist.  But the reality is that these pictures aren't imagined.  These places do exist.  The beauty does exist.  And here I was, in it.  It makes me realize I've spent so many years of my life not appreciating the beauty that surrounds me.  I’m too busy working, cleaning, organizing, planning, volunteering or doing something other than stopping to take it all in.  As the gun went off, I took a deep breath and knew it was time.  I was ready.

The Phoenix Marathon isn't a big race.  There’s only 2,500 half marathoners and 2,000 full marathoners.  So basically it’s like running the Turkey Trot.  I intentionally started towards the back of the line because it’s just easier that way.  The crowd thinned out very quickly and by mile two it was just me and about 10 other people.  The rest had gone ahead or were walking so they were behind.  When I first realized this was a small race, I panicked thinking about being out there all alone.  What I will tell you now, is this is exactly what I needed.  On a daily basis, I don’t run or workout with anyone, I don’t do running groups on the weekends, it’s usually just me and the pavement.  It’s what I am used to.  It’s what I long for - that peaceful quiet time for me. 

The first 6 miles of the race were all downhill.  I remember getting to mile 4 thinking, “Well if it’s like this the entire way, I’ll be fine!”  The course took us through a very nice residential area with huge houses, perfectly manicured yards… well dirt.  No one in Arizona has grass.  It’s all dirt and rocks.  The views of the mountains, the cacti, the beauty of this earth were like being in a dream.  I think had I been able to do the Columbus Marathon like I had originally planned last year, I wouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I did Phoenix.  I run around Columbus all of the time.  I wouldn't spend time enjoying where I was because it is available for me to see every day.  I think I would have found myself consumed on focusing on time, HR, and letting a bunch of random crap into my head.  In Phoenix, I never panicked or worried through the race because I was caught in the beauty of what surrounded me.  It was a moment in time I will have forever.  I am so glad it was just me and the pavement that first part.  Solidarity and losing myself to the run is what I have known.  I knew how to stick with the plan because it’s what I had done so many times before.  I turned on my iPod, put the same song on repeat, and got to work. 

The first time I found myself a little frustrated and kind of wondering what I had gotten into was the halfway point.  Like I mentioned, this race dropped you out where your distance was and it was up to you to run to the finish line.  When I saw the banners and start point for the half, it was really beginning to get hot out and I became a little frustrated at the fact that when I crossed the half, I wasn't at my fastest half time.  For a brief moment, I let frustration in, thinking I hadn't gotten any better than where I was a year or two ago.  But within the next mile I reminded myself that we hadn't been training to improve speed.  We had been training to get further.  I wasn't really fatigued, and didn't feel like I was going to die, so I realized maybe we had accomplished the goal?

Most people talk about a “wall”.  Some say it’s non-existent and some say it’s a time they’ll never forget.  I have new feelings on this imaginary “wall”.  When I ran my first half marathon in 2010, when I had trained using the Hal Higdon program, I know I hit a wall.  Mile 10.  I literally thought I saw Jesus coming with a while light to take me home.  I remember saying to my dad, “I’m just going to go over on the curb and wait for Jesus to come and pick me up.”  It was like nothing I had ever experienced.  It was literally like my body wouldn't move.  My legs were heavier than lead.  I was dizzy, tired, exhausted and ready to pass out.  But looking back at this training cycle, I now wonder if the wall is something that comes due to lack of preparation and sticking with your plan.  If your plan says run a nine minute pace and you go out and run a seven minute pace, then my thoughts are that the wall is inevitable.  I never hit a wall during this race.  I mean mentally I had a few hiccups, but just knew that quitting was in no way an option of any sort.  I had spent the last 20 weeks of my life training, spent a ton of money to get there, and told thousands of people it was happening.  Literally my brain is very black and white.  Quitting was not an option. 

Miles 17-20 were the hardest.  You’re tired because you've been running for 17 miles and you realize you still have 9.2 more to go.  I started to struggle a little at the aid station at 17.  I was getting hot so I had them dump water over my head and wet my hat.  My running pace was decreasing about 10 seconds.  But before I started the race, Ryan said “You’re only job is to get to mile 20.  Then I’ll take you home.”  As hard as miles 17-20 were, I knew I only had a little further to go and then I had completed my job.  After that, it was up to him.  He made a promise.  It was on him to keep it.  In all honesty, I felt about the same at mile 20 as I did at mile 4.  I was still keeping the same pace, I was gelling when I needed, and I had fueled when we had planned.  I literally felt like a machine that was programmed to do something and I was just doing my job.  I had listened to my iPod the entire time, but when I picked Ryan up at mile 20, I was ready to talk (go figure, right?). 

I think Ryan was a bit shocked at the fact that I was still standing upright, still following the plan, and talking a mile a minute.  I had been running for 20 miles, so of course I had a lot to say and report on.  I wasn't gasping for breath, just talking like any other normal conversation (although with a lot more swear words… I was really flustered about a few things).  It was just like we had met up for a fun afternoon run.  We were chatting, laughing, joking and just taking it all in.  I remember a few times us talking about just how amazing it was to be in that moment.  I was here.  I was doing it.  I felt good.  No injuries.  No pains.  I was doing what I had set out to do.  I wasn't nervous.  I wasn't anxious to finish.  I just was going.  I was going to finish what we started.

Another fun fact.  Although Ryan has been coaching sports for years, I was one of his first one on one clients.  I was the first one he coached to 26.2.  He has other clients that he has coached to 50, 100, and 120 plus mile runs, but I was the first to say, “Hey, I want you to coach me to complete a full marathon.”  I've known Ryan for over 10 years now.  He was Trey’s college roommate.  Although we always didn't keep in touch like we should have, Ryan is family to me.  He makes me angry, he knows how to push my buttons (not responding to me, or not responding to all questions), he knows when I’m having good days and bad, and is one of the people in my life that I ask about before making any big decisions.  I want to know how they’ll affect my training and where I want to go.  Is he the perfect coach?  No.  Am I the perfect client?  No.  But through the months of training together, we have learned from one another to make the relationship work.  Believe me, and Ryan knows this, there are days where I just want to scream at him to give me the answers or to do it my way.  But reality is that if I knew how to coach, I wouldn't need one.  So I've learned to trust him.  Yes, that’s right.  I trust him.  Do I second guess him sometimes?  Sure.  Everyone second guesses their coach.  Will I continue to challenge him?  Yes.  Because he challenges me.  Usually it’s not physically, but mentally.  See that’s the thing about having a coach.  I’m not only here to learn from him, he also learns from me.  Dealing with different types of people and their needs is what will help him to grow.  No matter where life takes either of us, Ryan will always be a part of my life.  What I have learned is that life is ever changing.  I have learned and grown more in this past year than I can even begin to express and I owe him a tremendous amount of gratitude. 

The last 6.2 miles of that - I will never forget.  The scenery wasn't really good at all and it was all flat.  I was missing the downhill from earlier in the race.  It was like running around Columbus.  Boring.  And we were running with traffic, which was annoying.  But we were just talking, joking and laughing.  All the while being sure we were sticking to the plan, hydrating, stopping at the aid stations, and thanking the race course volunteers.  When I picked him up at 20, I do remember saying, “There’s little white lights flashing in front of my eyes and it’s a little blurry sometimes.  But I’m ok, just telling you.”  I assume it was from the heat and exhaustion, but it wasn't like my body was crashing and I couldn't move.  I think in the few moments of silence we had, the conversation was usually started with me laughing and smiling while saying “Who would have thunk it? Me? I’m freaking doing it? And it’s not even that bad!”  I joked when we got to mile 22 and said, “ Isn't this when I’m supposed to see Jesus?” Coach Jeff came and met us around mile 24 and of course he was dancing and posing.  I think he was shocked to see I was laughing and smiling.  The last few miles were like 3 friends who just decided to go out for a run in Phoenix.  I remember at one point saying, “Hey guys.  Its almost mile 25 and you have me running at like a 10 minute pace.  Not the plan.”  Coach Jeff said, “Yea, well you’re doing it so keep on moving! And when we get to mile 25, no more walking!” 

Mile 25 brought on the first sight of pain.  As I was running, it was like someone stabbed me in my right IT band, up by my hip.  I stopped and Coach Jeff screamed, “Keep moving!”  As I walked he rubbed it out and we were off again.  About .3 miles away from the finish line, it did it again.  Then it was a typical “me” situation.  I screamed.  Made a face.  Grunted.  Then said, “I’m fine.  I’m fine.   It doesn't hurt.  It’s not going to kill me.”  And I kept running.  The shoot to the finish line was perfect.  Seeing people I knew and loved cheer and scream, and then it was all over.  I crossed the line.  It was done.  I had finished.  #1 was done.  But the funny thing is, crossing that line I didn't get all crying and emotional.  I didn't feel like anything was done.  I realized that this is only just the beginning. 

Phoenix was the race I was meant to be.  Wikipedia’s definition of a Phoenix is a long-lived bird that is cyclically regenerated or reborn.  Crossing that finish line was just the beginning for me.  I have worked hard to create a new body and mind.  A pile of workable clay.  Now it’s time to mold a new statue. 

If someone who was going to run a marathon said to me, “What advice do you have?” I would answer with the following.  Most of these are typical answers that most people will say, but you just doubt they are true.  So I’m just going to jump on the bandwagon and tell you, they’re true.

• ·         Never try anything new on race day.  No new clothes, hairbands, gutchies, shorts, shirt, bra, shoes, gels, food, drinks.  Nothing new.  Stick to what has worked for you. 
• ·         Set out all of your clothes and pin your bib the night before.  You don’t want to be scrambling in the morning looking for stuff.
• ·         Remember, it’s your race.  Don’t worry about entertaining people there to see you or if you’ll upset someone by going to lay down to take a nap.  Do what you need to do to be successful.
• ·         Don’t go out too fast.  You’ll be excited.  I didn’t really experience this, because I had a plan I knew I needed to follow, but I know that not everyone is like me and won’t just stick to the plan. I looked at it like a homework assignment and if I didn’t follow it, it would be like failing.  We all know how well I do with that…
• ·         Which leads me to an important one – have a plan.  Know when you’ll gel, when you’ll drink, what to do at aid stations, where people will meet you, everything.  Plan it out.  Be prepared.
• ·         When you get to the start line, get in line for the PortaJohn.  Then, when you get out, get back in line again instantly.  The lines fill up quick closer to the start, and you want to make sure you have time to go before the gun goes off.
• ·         I can’t say this enough, or hear it enough from my coach and amazing athletes I am surrounded with, TRUST YOUR TRAINING.  You’ll think, “Ughhhhh, I just took off two weeks.  Did I gain weight? Are my legs and body going to remember?”  The answer is yes.  Your body always remembers.

Special thanks to Trey who was a huge support not only throughout this entire process, but also on race day.  He met me at several points to fuel me and send updates.  He also took the picture of me and Ryan leaving mile 20 that I truly believe is a “picture of a 1,000 words”.  Thanks babe, I love you.  To my BFF Lace, who listens to me on a daily basis, thank you for your support.  Thank you for always telling me what I need to hear, not what I want to hear.  To Jess Junack, who suffered injury just a week out from this race, yet still came to support all of us.  That speaks volumes of someone’s character.  She was my “Gatorade fairy at mile 4” when the aid stations had run out of Powerade… and will always be my “sole market”.  To my teammates that I got to meet in Phoenix, I enjoyed getting to know each and every one of you.  I hope that our paths cross again and someday we can meet many more PrsFit teammates!  It truly made the experience worth it!  To the Prsfit team, your support, encouragement and daily laughter truly make my life better.  To everyone who sent cards, texts, messages… just everything – THANK YOU!  I am continually humbled by your words and generosity.  To my coach… well I think you know how I feel.  I’m sure I've sent you an 18 page log explaining it ;)  Now the work begins. 

Thoughts from thousands of miles in the air

As I find myself sitting on a plane next to two strangers (which I must say is monumental in itself - on a plane, traveling, next to strangers, not even worried), having no access to my work email and time to reflect, I have come to the realization of just how much my life has changed.  No, I realize how much I have changed.   I find myself realizing that some of the benefits of endurance training that I so longed for, I have gained. 

Logic – My brain never stops.  I wish it would sometimes, but it just doesn’t.   I have to really focus on just being in the moment and feeling one emotion, only thinking about one thing.

I have always been a logical thinker.  It’s just the way my brain is wired.  To me, A+B=C.  If you want me to believe and understand C, I need to know what A and B are.  I like processes.  I want to understand how things are made, what makes them tick, and I want to know what causes things to be the way they are.  In looking back at who I was just a few years ago, I realize that endurance training has only sparked and grown this logic.  Now, before I go off on this bit of a tangent, let me say that no worries, I still believe in God.  So please, I don’t need friends or family doing any type of interventions or exorcisms.  If you attempt that, I will never speak to you again.  Respect my feelings and my beliefs and let me be.  And if you want to judge me for what I’m about to write and don’t want to associate with me anymore, then fine.  Don’t.  That’s your choice.  I can’t waste my entire life trying to change who I am to make everyone else happy.  I don’t have enough hours in the day. 

What I will say is that I have learned a new understanding of why so many endurance athletes practice Buddhism.  For the first time in my 31 years of life, I will say this past year has really tested my beliefs in Christianity.  Again I still believe in God people, so don’t start freaking out.  But endurance training is a very logical lifestyle.  Every choice you make, in every aspect of your life, has a cause and effect.  Everything you put in your mouth, every lifestyle choice you make, every time you push yourself to exhaustion, every time you decide to travel, everything you do will have an effect on your training.  When you’re not training for something specific, a specific race or goal, most endurance athletes can be extreme.  I am still amazed at how much some of the most amazing athletes I know can drink (that may be my new goal for this year to learn how to hang with them ;)).  I have seen people drink themselves silly and then wake up the next day and run 15 miles.  It’s like they want to see just how far they can push their bodies.  It’s like they challenge themselves to push the physical limits.  Why do you think Ultra Runners exist?  But that’s a topic for another blog… these individuals amaze me and I totally understand why they go so far… even running 20 miles, I thought “I bet I could push myself even more”.   I watch the Ironman and I think, if they can do it, why can’t I?  What makes me any different?

Anyways, endurance training teaches you how much control you actually have over your body.  For example, when I was dealing with my PF, some people would say “let’s pray about it and you will be healed.”  I am appreciative of this and believe me, I pray a lot.  I understand the power of prayer, but I also believe in the power of positive thinking.  Mind over matter.  This is why when faced with adversity in my life, I always look for the silver lining because I believe that if you believe in yourself and the inner strength that lies within you, nothing is impossible.  If you speak that you want to do something, but you don’t believe it with every fiber of your being – if you don’t feel it in your heart, know it in your mind – the goals and dreams become harder to obtain.  When dealing with injury, for example, I am a very logical thinker.  I do want to pray for God to grant my body grace and healing, but I also don’t want to pray or believe pain and illness away without gaining knowledge of the situation.  I want to know why it happened.  The mechanics of it.  What did I do wrong to cause it?  What can I change to make sure it doesn't happen again?  What can I do to recover in the best way possible?  I don’t want to just be told, “you need to rest”.  I want to be told why I need to rest, what is happening during this recovery time, and what will be the outcome afterwards.  I have a really hard time of just “trusting” things will work out.  I want to know what I can do to make them work out.  

Now I know some things can’t be explained.  I have a dear friend who has been dealing with some unknown health issues, and my heart breaks for her.  I have no idea how logic could even play a part in her journey, because there’s no rhyme or reason why she’s going through what she is.  There have been a lot of things that have happened in my life that I wonder how and why they happened to me – and there is no logical explanation.  So I guess my logic has grown tremendously when it comes to endurance training.  I want to know how.  I want to know what it will take.  I want to know what the outcomes can be if I’m willing to do the work.  I’m a very compulsive person and am very good at making decisions.  It’s one of my strongest personality traits.  I can look at any situation, eliminate barriers and excuses, and prioritize.  When I make crazy extreme decisions, like running a marathon, they are made quickly and on faith.  Not only faith in God, but also faith in myself.   Faith in knowing that if I want something bad enough, even if it’s so hard and painful I want to quit, if I want it bad enough I’ll find a way.  I’ll dig it right out of the deepest darkest parts of my soul to see just how far I can go.

Listen, these few paragraphs can’t even begin to explain what my brain processes on a daily basis and just how crazy I can be sometimes.  It takes a very special team to coach me.  I require answers to a lot of questions.  I plan.  I prepare.  I always want to learn more.  I can’t imagine living a life where I wasn't trying to learn more every day.  If I had a team of coaches that become unwilling to explain the ins and outs of things, allowing me to weigh out the pros and cons and understand why they are what they are, I don’t think I would be able to achieve any of these dreams I have.  We all know I’m not going to become a professional athlete and win any races.  I’m not oblivious to reality.  But endurance training has taught me that if I am willing to do the work, I will see results.  It may, no it will, take years for me to compete with “good runners” and athletes.  But as long as my body holds up, and I am physically able to, I will work to become a better athlete.  I want to become better.  The hard work that lies ahead motivates me.  I get satisfaction in achieving things I only ever dreamed were possible.  I like to be challenged.  I want to be challenged.  I want to go toe to toe – and leave it all out on the line – knowing I didn't go down without a fight. 

26.2 will be part logic, part faith.  Logic tells me that I did the training.  I did the work.  I followed the plan.  I did A and B.  So statistically, I would be able to finish the race.  Faith and determination will be, from what I've been told, at mile 22.  When I ran my first half marathon, I got to mile 10 and saw Jesus.  Seriously, I think there were white lights.  I said I was just going to go lay down on the curb and wait for the saints to take me home.  But somehow, and it was ugly… I finished.  I’m sure I will be digging deep on Saturday.  I’m sure there will be moments of doubt.  But I need to have faith that in those moments I will find that determination, that will deep inside of me, that just refuses to quit.  3.2.13. #1. Gets. Done.

If you think it's easy, it's the furthest thing from it...

It was brought to my attention that my last blog post may have come across differently than what my intentions were.  Let me start by saying, I have a lot of thoughts on a lot of things.  My brain literally never stops.  I don't sleep.  I very rarely find myself at a peaceful moment where there's not a million things going on in my brain.  I analyze everything.  I ask a lot of questions.  I am a planner.  I evaluate every risk I take and make sure it has a good ROI.  I look at the good and the bad of everything.  I always do my best to focus on the good, but the good isn't always reality.  Sometimes you need to be realistic of the current situation - life is not always sunshine and daisies.  That's not the real world.  But, I have learned that with every bad there is a good.  There is a silver lining in everything.  So I choose to focus on that silver lining.  But I also want to be sure I acknowledge the reality that exists. The point is, my brain never stops.  Therefore, I can't write down every detail of what I'm thinking in one blog post - it would take you years to read.  So, I'll give insight as I go.  

While I do not think anything I have done is worth any recognition (This is not something I want to debate. I am just expressing my own feelings.), I did not mean to come across that this journey has not been hard.  It has.  As I mentioned before, I didn't get to where I was by making smart choices.  I made bad ones.  I ate horribly.  I didn't work out.  There was no one to blame other than myself.  (Note: I do however wonder why my husband, family and friends never said, "Hey, have you looked in the mirror lately?")  I am the one who makes choices in my life.  Good or bad, I am the one who has to live with the consequences.  I made bad choices and I found myself in a deep dark place.  But here's some insight into my brain.  I am a very black and white person.  I literally got up one day, got on the scale, looked in the mirror and said, "You will never see this number again."  That was it.  In that moment, I decided to change.  Was it hard?  Absolutely.  But I just refused to allow the lifestyle that I had been living to continue.  I realized my life, my time here on this earth, was worth more.  

Listen, everyday there are struggles.  This is hard.  No doubt .  So today I'll talk about one of my hardest battles. Food. 

Food is an hourly struggle for me.  I can honestly say there are at least twenty or thirty times A DAY I want to grab sweets and unhealthy food.  It's all I think about some days.  I used to eat out for lunch and dinner almost everyday.  Not now.  I have to spend approximately three hours every Sunday prepping my food for the week to make sure everything I eat is healthy and gluten free (For those of you that don't know, I have Celiac's Disease.  A topic for another day.)  Going to parties, family gatherings, work lunches, dinners - anything that is not me prepping my food is an uncomfortable situation.  I feel awkward because I'm the "weird lady who eats the health food or packs her own meal to a party so she doesn't starve", or I feel horrible that whomever I'm with has to choose a restaurant or cook a certain meal just because of me.  Either way, I feel bad.  I hate inconveniencing people.  It keeps me up at night.  I just want to be a "normal" person.  But I will say that often times I am left with the question of, "What is normal?" 

I feel like my thoughts are all over the place tonight so I'll try to wrap this up before it goes into too much.  Here's the thing.  Life is hard.  It takes work.  It's not just handed to you.  This journey to losing the weight, to 26.2, it's been the hardest thing I've ever done.  Some of you look at me and think, "Wow she should feel so great that she lost all of that weight!".  What you don't realize is that I look in the mirror and still see that 256 pound size 22 girl.  I am ashamed that I ever got that way.  I wish I was born to be some tall, thin, beautiful super model.  But I wasn't.  None of this is written for you to pay me compliments.  It's not that I don't appreciate them, but it's not the point of this blog.  The point is that I know there are a few people reading this that are in a place that I was, and to be honest I wish I would of had someone that would have said to me "I understand how you're feeling.  I've been there."  You may think I have this perfect life and this perfect outlook on myself.  But guess what, I don't.  And I would argue that every single person has things they struggle with.  But most times people don't share their struggles.  They want people to think they have it all together.  But those are thoughts for another time. 

Losing weight, working out, training for a race - it's not easy.  There are days I look in the mirror and cry at what I see looking back at me.  There's not many body parts I can look at and say I like.  I am not where I want to be.  This is not the weight or the body I want to have.  But I'll tell you one thing. I'll be damned if I'll die not giving it my all, working hard to get where I want to be.  Where I am is no one's fault but my own.  I think the reason people don't stay on track to lose weight or train for a race is that they spend too much time looking for a quick fix or blaming someone else.  The only reason I moved on is that I looked in the mirror and saw what the problem was.  Me. 

So, is it hard?  Yes.  Is it worth it?  Well, today I went into a store and bought a pair of size 8 pants.  In a normal people's store.  Not a plus size store, not the plus size section, just where normal sized people get to shop.  Is a size 8 where I want to be?  Hell no.  I have these damn big thighs that don't seem to go away no matter how much I run or work out.  But a size 8 is 14 sizes smaller than a 22.  Is it hard to find the time to work out, make it a priority and eat right?  Yes.  But remember that through each struggle, each battle, there is a reward.  You just have to be willing to work hard enough to get it.

1 week away and I'm starting a blog...

Blogging.  Not going to lie, it's something I've always thought about but never thought it was imperative to do.  In fact, more often than not, I have thought, "Wow, what a waste of time.  Who's really going to read what I have to write?  Don't they have something better to do with their lives?  Cure cancer?  Feed hungry children?  Rescue a dog?"  But I have found over this past year that writing things down has really helped to clear my mind and get me to places and experiences in reality that I had only ever visioned in my mind.  

Let me set the record straight from the beginning.  I, in no way, think that anything I have done in my life is out of the ordinary.  People will tell me, "You're such an inspiration! You inspire me!", and often times I'm trying hard to fight back a look of "What the heck, are you crazy?" off of my face.  Did I lose 100 pounds?  Yes.  But listen, let's be realistic here.  I like that this is my own page and I can say what I want. I only got that fat because I had lead and heart disease.  Too much lead in my ass and not enough heart to do anything about it.  I went through a few years of denial, trying to say it was a thyroid issue or blaming it on the fact that I was taking fertility drugs (Note: the doctors actually say this is why I gained a lot of weight... but I say they're crazy), and not looking at the reality of that I was eating like crap and not exercising.  Losing weight is science people.  Calories in.  Calories out.  I didn't get my stomach stapled, take any magic pills or do any magic wraps.  I got off of my ass and started watching what I ate.  I started eating clean, healthy, getting rid of most processed foods.  I made a choice to change my life. 

I get so frustrated with people who ask me for my help, I spend a ton of my time responding to tell them what I did, give them the basics of what worked for me, then months later they come back crying to me saying, "Oh well this and this and this and this...." blah blah blah blah, excuse after excuse after excuse.  Months and years later they're right where they started, or even worse off.  I'm not judging - everyone in life has the opportunity to make their own choices.  My frustrations come from stupidity.  Doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.  People need to be willing to step out of their comfort zones, try new things, and trust someone other than themselves to get where they want to go.  If you find yourself in a bad situation and you haven't sought out coaching or a mentor, you need to come to the realization that your own advice has not done you well. 

Listen, don't get me wrong.  I want to help people.  That's something I strive for every day of my life.  I want my life to have purpose.  When I die, I want at least one person other than my husband to realize I'm dead and think I made a good mark on this crazy ass world.  I wish I could just quit my job and learn to become a coach, to mentor people, to help them achieve their dreams.  Sometimes I think people just need a smack in the face and a dose of, "Get your head out of your ass, pull your big girl pants up, and get this shit done!" Nothing makes my heart happier than seeing people achieve their dreams.  Their ideas that were once in this imaginary unreachable world, that with hard work and dedication, become reality.  Being a part of that or having the opportunity to witness such a thing... is well... priceless.  There's no monetary value on that.  It's something that cannot be bought.  It is only earned. 

I'm sure people will take things I say on this blog personally, and let me just say that it's never directed at any one person.  If it is, I will call you out.  If I have something to say about you, I'll say it to your face.  There's no success or progress in not being honest with people.  Even if it's uncomfortable, there is strength and knowledge to be gained after the process of working it out.  You have to be willing to take the good with the bad and use the uncomfortable things you don't want to hear as opportunities for personal growth.  I can honestly say with every fiber in my being that had I not decided to hire a coach and become a part of a team, I never would have found myself one week away from crossing off #1 on my bucket list.  Running a full marathon.  I didn't hire a coach to have him say, "Oh you're awesome! Good Luck! Blah blah blah blah...." I hired a coach to tell me, "You're thinking is not right.  You're down a rabbit hole.  Get out.  Get out of your head.  I won't go there with you.  You need to change your form to become more efficient.  You need to look at things a different way...." The list goes on and on and on.  I needed someone to tell me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear.  Did I struggle and get angry?  Hell yea I did.  I remember once I almost put my fist through a wall in anger at him because I was down a deep rabbit hole and he just stop responding to me.  Not responding - that is a hot button for me.  But it pushed me outside my comfort zone.  Outside this little bubble I've created.  It brought to light a lot of crap that I was allowing to weigh to me down.  And I learned that some of my hot buttons were not valid in real life outside of my own. 

This past 19 weeks has been filled with happiness, sadness, fist pumps, tears, fear, anger, and doubt in myself and my coach.  When you start training for a marathon, you kind of know "on paper" what the physical training will be like.  But no one, and I stress no one, can ever prepare you for the emotional journey... no wait, battle... you're about to embark on.  

In one week #1. Gets. Done.  It seems so surreal.  I still don't understand it.  I mean, who ever crosses #1 off on their bucket list?  That's supposed to be this imaginary, unreachable thing.  Maybe someday I'll share my bucket list story... how it all began... but not thinking that will be anytime soon.  

So this is a glimpse of what this blog will be.  Random trains of thoughts from my brain that make no sense to anyone but my brain.  I'm sure not many will follow, and this will be more of an opportunity for me to vent about some stuff, but if one person reads it - and it can help one person in one way - then it served purpose and was worth my time.  No guarantees that everything will make sense, but hopefully I'll be better about logging my journey on this crazy roller coaster of life.  

I can't stress enough again ... I'm still not sure what I do that is inspirational or how my life is any different from others.  I didn't do anything out of the ordinary.  All I did was make a decision and never look back.  I made the choice to do whatever it takes to get what I want.  Every person has the same equal opportunity to achieve their dreams as I do to achieve mine.  The only thing standing in their way is their own willingness to sacrifice and believe in something, no matter how out of reach it may be.