Time To Up the Activity

I had my vacation, I had my return down time, and now it's time to start seriously thinking about "training" for this triathlon.

My original intent was to lose a significant amount of weight so that I could hypothetically "catch up" to a fitness level where I could think about training for a triathlon by time my sister had her baby.

The baby is now 9 days old. My sister is in way better shape with the following exceptions: 1) her rectus abdominus muscle (the "six pack" muscle) separated quite a bit with the pregnancy, so she has to wear a supportive band to keep her belly from looking like she's still pregnant and 2) she's not quite ready to sit on a bicycle.

Otherwise, she's well ahead of me.

With my countdown steadily dropping, I'm needing to do something towards my goal daily. Even if it's just a little something, I have to really be more intense and serious about this. I'm not saying I haven't taken it seriously. It's just that I probably need to be much more careful now about keeping a regular schedule and thinking about an actual training plan.

As opposed to just trying to get to the gym more regularly and make sure I'm cutting back on "bad" foods.

These are definitely GOOD changes I've made, but they're not enough at this point.

So this morning I went on a short hike with one of my friends. Again, I didn't carry my daughter, and we only took a short loop due to time constraints.

When we got home, we packed up a blanket, lunch, and my calendar and headed off to a preschool class picnic to meet her teacher and classmates and sign up for work jobs through the school year (since it is a co-op).

We did walk to the school--it's only about a half mile, but I need the activity and as I'm discovering, my daughter needs to burn off her extra energy.

After getting home, she took a nap with very little resistance (yay!) and then we went to visit our naturopath. We are both going to get tested for mercury poisoning, so we had to go in for a consultation.

Oddly, the one part of visits that I normally DREAD, I was only partially dreading: the weigh-in. I wouldn't have been weighed except that she needed to calculate the dose of medication for the mercury test.

Last time I was weighed with this doctor was at my annual exam in early June. My doctor had asked if I thought I had lost any weight. I told her I thought I'd made a very small dent.

When she noticed that my "dent" was 10 pounds since my last check, she was very impressed. I kind of raised my eyebrows at her because for over two month's work (nearly three), it is somewhat frustrating that it is a small number.

She stressed that 1) I was doing a very very very good job and I should be very very very proud of myself and 2) although she knows I would rather the number be in the 50 range, that I'm more likely to keep this off than if I'd dropped that much anyway and 3) I was doing a very very very good job and 4) the time that I wasn't losing weight but losing inches, I was shifting from fat to muscle and 5) I should be very very very proud of myself.

It was so nice to have that positive reinforcement when really, it's averaged to about a pound a week I've been losing if I look at the whole time I've been working on this. Slow progress is good, but not as dramatically rewarding as I feel like it needs to be to keep me encouraged about the process.

We left a few minutes later than I wanted to get my daughter to her gymnastics lesson. Once again stuck in traffic (we had to cross the entire metro area in an hour during rush hour, good luck), we didn't get to her gym until 35 minutes into her 50 minute lesson. I'd already called and told them I'd be late--if we arrived at all and I was informed that there was a demo going on with the team girls nearby and we could go watch.

So I drove past the gym. My three-year-old, already a backseat driver (she takes after her mother) yelled, "MAMA! You're supposed to turn for gymnastics!" as I drove by the street the gym is on.

I felt awful, especially since I'd already told her that she would be going to gymnastics.

We got to the demo and I waved at the girls and the coaches (who I used to coach/work with) and they ran over to say hello. The gym owner said that they didn't have enough preschoolers for the demo and would my daughter like to participate?

OF COURSE!

We ran back to the car, got her changed into her leotard, and she had a BLAST. I got it on videotape, which I will do my very best not to bore people with, but of course I thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

What's even better is this week I didn't puke on my way home.

Thank Goodness for Down Time

Fortunately I had no specific plans for today. I ended up fairly limited in what I could do because of my back. The drive yesterday didn't help.

After the cleaning binge I did down at my sister's house, I figured I'd be worn out from it and not have any motivation for my own home once I returned. Instead, my husband had done some cleaning and I wanted to keep it up, so I got us unpacked (a record--normally it takes me DAYS to complete that process) and did start other cleaning projects around the house.

Other than taking the dog on a walk, I didn't get anything done today physically though. At least she enjoyed it.

Long...Drive...Home

Short version:
17 hour drive, could have been 15-16 without weird occurrences along the way.

Long version:
4:30am. Alarm went off

4:45am. Staggered out of bed, packed, got up daughter, dressed her.

5:25am. Drove away.

8:00am. Stopped to get coffee and breakfast. Took 15 minutes for them to make my coffee.

8:30am. Finally left.

8:40am. Pulled off freeway as coffee did not settle well and went through system on fast forward.

8:50am. Back on freeway, only 10 miles ahead of where I was at 8:00. Argh.

10:00ish Stopped for gas. Took 10 minutes in line to pay cash so I could start pump, filled tank, another 10 minutes in line to get change back. Hate pumping own gas. Hate poor customer service.

12:00ish Stopped for a potty break, grabbed packed food and handed it to the back seat as we continued on.

2:00ish Started to get a bit tired so pulled over and stopped for food again. Was thinking about getting a hotel but the stop recharged me enough to keep going.

5:00ish Stopped for gas--didn't quite need to according to the gauge, but was concerned that by time I did need to stop, there wouldn't be a gas station as I was in the Shasta area where there aren't many big towns and thus not many exits and even fewer gas stations. Calculated that I might not need to stop for gas again, but it would depend on my mileage.

8:30pm. Hit Eugene, figuring I could be home by 10:00 assuming there would be no traffic or other incidents.

8:35pm. North of Eugene hit construction and freeway down to one lane and CREEPING. At least two accidents through the construction site where drivers had not been paying attention and rear-ended SEMIs. How do you not see a semi? I know it was dark but really...

10:10pm. Arrive home. Take purse, computer, and child out of car. Dump all three in front entryway and went to bed.

I Didn't Mean To Predict the Future

My dear daughter and her wonderful energy has worn out our welcome a bit at my sister's house. She's not terribly misbehaving; she's just being three. She and her cousin are (mostly) having lots of fun, but that means lots of running around, squealing, giggling, shouting, occasional time-outs and crying, and more new "rules" than I ever imagined creating. For example, "Please do not play 'Ready, Set, OOF' on top of your cousin."

So in trying to figure out what day and time we would be departing, I was asked if I would like to try paddleboarding again. I actually did. So in the interest of getting in one more opportunity to go out, we decided to go before dinner, since we had figured that I would be leaving early early in the morning.

We again packed up one paddleboard and paddle, 37 towels, a change of clothes for me (see? sometimes I do learn...), two toddlers, a baby, and three adults. We again had to take two cars since both cars are 5-seaters and there are a total of six of us.

We went to the beach that on our last visit had the bacteria warning. It was still up. My brother-in-law commented, "Yeah, but nobody pays any attention to that. See all those families down there? They're letting their kids play in it."

Oddly, I decided I wanted to go anyway and the plan was not to ingest any of the water anyhow. It was very calm and near flat--even almost glassy in a few places. There was only a light breeze, with a few tiny gusts, so I was hoping it would be easier.

I got in and started out kneeling and was going to try and stand but decided, since I had such fabulous luck last time, I would go back to the very shallow area and try to stand there--that way, if I fell, I could theoretically not even get my shorts wet.

Theoretically.

I did get to a stand and was up for a couple of paddle strokes before losing my balance. Unfortunately, I fell butt first and it was just deep enough that I ended up sitting in water up to my neck.

Lovely.

So I climbed back up to my knees and paddled out a little further. I thought I'd try standing up again--besides, I couldn't get much more wet than I already was. When I looked down though, there was a bunch of seaweed. The thought of falling into the seaweed and kicking around in it was not appealing, so I paddled out further, hoping to get past it.

I went out around one of the closer buoys before I decided to try standing up again. I managed to paddle for a bit, but then I'm not sure what happened. All I know is I was vertical, then I was seeing the board shoot out in front of me, although not far enough that I was able to avoid landing on the tail of it on my own tail.

Ow.

Also, discovered that I could get more wet as up until that point, my hair had been dry.

I swam back to catch up to the board and then climbed up on it and managed to make it all the way back to the shore--a fair distance.

I was so proud of myself, even though my legs were jello.

My brother-in-law told me to ride the board all the way in, and the fins were strong enough that they would "catch" on the sand.

"I'm going to faceplant when that happens," I yelled to him.

He said, "Now," indicating that the fins were going to catch.

I faceplanted.

I hadn't meant to predict the future, and really didn't want to, but honestly, even if I had been able to get off of the board gracefully, my legs were so wobbly, I might have faceplanted on the sand anyway.

My brother-in-law congratulated me and asked if I wanted to go out again. I wasn't sure, so he took the paddle and headed out himself. When he did get back in, I decided to head back out again.

I had a bit of a rough start, but quickly got onto my feet and circled around a little ways--standing the whole time. I dropped to my knees again right before hitting the sand and even managed a graceful exit from the board.

I had a hard time walking afterward I'd held my legs so tight and my back wasn't feeling to great, but I actually had a lot of fun. Later, when I was asked if I was going to go get a paddleboard, I did admit that we won't be getting one. Not because I didn't enjoy it, but because I'd probably get a kayak first, and because we need things like a new deck door before I think about a kayak.

We got back, and I started packing to get ready to drive home. We'll see how my back holds up after today's activities and tomorrow's drive, but I'm still glad I went back and did it again.

I'm still not up for surfing though.

Trying New Things

On our last visit to see my sister, which was in early May, she tried desperately to get me to paddleboard. For those of you unfamiliar, paddleboarding is where you take a large surfboard-type apparatus, stand on it (or kneel if you're a beginner), and navigate around relatively calm water by using a long paddle.

I had no interest in it.

Despite my sister insisting I try it, "I think you'll really like it!" I was not excited at all. I don't have much interest in sports that involve the ocean. I'm not afraid of sharks getting me (perhaps I should be) simply because the chances are fairly slim. I've had a number of experiences where I just couldn't get air to breathe while being pounded by surf.

I ended up taking swimming lessons again as an adult to try and give myself more confidence--which I do have now. Regardless, the ocean and I have a mutual understanding and agreement. It is bigger and stronger than me and doesn't give a rip about my well-being. I am smaller, weaker, and would rather sit on the beach with a book. So far, the arrangement has worked out just fine for me.

My sister, who has loved the water since birth, loves every water sport she's come in contact with. Since she has so much fun with water sports, she's always trying to get everyone else to try whatever she's doing so they can have fun too.

She and I have different ideas of "fun."

Anyhow, on our last trip, there was a severe bacteria warning at the place we were going to paddleboard and I opted not to participate on the grounds that I didn't want to be in bacteria-ridden water.

I never thought I'd be grateful for pollution.

On this trip, I figured I might as well try it, so when we finally got one paddleboard, one paddle, one umbrella, one beach blanket, 37 towels, 3 adults, 3 kids, and 2 cars loaded and ready to go, it was about 1:00pm.

The water was rather choppy, but I decided to go out anyway. I had seen my brother-in-law do it once before (he went out in the bacteria fest), so I knew what it looked like. My sister wanted him to give me a "lesson" and he wanted my sister to give me the lesson.

Since they couldn't agree, I finally said, "So it sounds like I should just head out, and good luck with that?"

Pretty much.

Except they did recommend I leave my sunglasses with them on the beach.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

I opted to take the sunglasses anyway (it was pretty bright, especially out on the water), telling them they only cost $10 and I left my good ones in the car for that reason.

My sister did give me some tips and made me do a couple of positioning change practices on the sand. I hauled the board into the water.

I probably didn't dress the best--I did have a swimsuit on, but this is LA, and so I opted to keep my shorts and T-shirt on anyway because I was self-conscious.

I didn't realize how wet I would end up getting.

Even before I ever got on the board.

I finally got up and paddled around on my knees for a bit. I quickly figured out that if a "wave" (I use the term generously, but it makes me sound like less of a goober than if I say a "ripple") hit me sideways, I was going for a swim.

For me, paddleboarding ended up being a lot more about paddling near a board, trying to get back onto the board.

I was doing sort of okay, at least for a first-timer, but my knees were getting achy, so I decided it was time to try and stand. I got partway up! Partway being "up" just enough that my brother-in-law got a great picture of me with my butt sticking out right before the shot of me heading into the water.

It was weird. I didn't feel like I was that off-balance, but my legs weren't working. I don't know if it was because I was kneeling too much, I'm generally weak, or because of my back (or some combination), but it was like I couldn't control them.

I wriggled back onto the board, got up into the kneeling position, and started to try again. This time I didn't manage to get up at all and promptly went down.

I went completely underwater. Good news: I didn't panic.

Bad news: I couldn't kick my legs at all.

It took two or three tries before they would function. I finally hauled myself back on the board and got onto my knees again. It hurt so badly I gave up and just sat on the board in a straddled position and slowly began paddling back in.

It was a lot more work than I'd expected.

It was also a lot more fun than I'd expected.

My sister was very proud of me and commented that she thought my husband would be very proud of me too. She said she was glad I even tried it. I admitted to her that mostly I tried because it was easier than arguing with her.

When we got back to her place, she showed me the pictures. I heard her from the other room saying, "Oh, that's a good picture! There's another one! Come see these!"

Still in my body-image denial land, I walked in to see the pictures on her computer expecting to see a trim athletic figure in the shots.

Why I expect this, I still don't understand.

Especially since the "great" shots she had on the screen looked less like my mental image of an athlete out playing in the water and more like a hippopotamus trying to balance on a skateboard.

She offered to let me go back out again tomorrow. I haven't given her an answer yet.

Vacation Mode=Doesn't Matter What Good Intentions I Had Mode

I got up once in the night and offered to help when my new niece was crying, but they said they were fine, so I tried to go back to sleep. I'm still not that great at getting back to sleep once awake, so it was a couple of hours (and several rounds of games on my DS) before I finally drifted off again.

When my alarm went off at 7:00--which I'd set it for so I could walk the dog and then cook breakfast, I shut it off instead of snooze.

A couple of hours later, I was woken by being informed that breakfast was ready. So much for helping out.

We had a nice lazy day, which was a good break for my back, and ended the evening with some nice photos at the beach. I took several self-portraits of my daughter and myself--we have so few pictures of the two of us.

Part of the reason we don't have pictures of the two of us is that I'm usually the one behind the camera, taking pictures of her and her father together.

The other part of the reason we don't have pictures of the two of us has to do with my weight issues. I HATE how I look in pictures--and seeing them is more discouraging than anything. Instead of going, "Wow, I really don't want to look like that, I need to work out/make changes," I seem to go into a negative spiral: depressed that this is my current reality, lethargy setting in through the depression, lack of willpower through the lethargy, depressed that I seem to have no willpower...it's frustrating.

I did get a couple of pictures of us that I don't utterly hate the way I look (although am not thrilled with it), and glad that I have them.

This has been a really great trip so far--I'm loving having the down time with my daughter and glad I can help out for my sister. I know Mom would have been more help than I could ever be, but I like to think she'd be pleased that my sister and I are getting along and helping each other, especially since we've had a few bumps along the way.

We had a bit of a later evening than planned but I did manage to do a little cleaning in the kitchen before being the last one in the house to settle down for the night.

The Opposite of Moroccan Time

After being a little annoyed with myself for not sticking to my intended timeframe, I woke up to my alarm at 5:00am, managed to only hit snooze once, then repacked, got my daughter and I dressed, and we had checked out of the hotel and were on the road by 5:25am. Not bad.

Around 8:00am (just past Stockton), I began looking for a place to stop and eat breakfast. There is fast food off of nearly every exit on I-5 from Canada to Mexico, and I swear I must have picked the three exits in California that have NONE. Finally, we found a place to eat.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, fast food not a good breakfast. I could go into my list of excuses, but essentially it came down to easy and fast.

Although not as fast as I'd hoped as my daughter took her sweet time, but we were back on the road and I was guessing we'd be at my sister's house between 2:30 and 5:00, traffic and stop-time dependent.

Just before the mountains north of LA, we stopped at a Panda Express (where we'd stopped about 3.5 months ago on a road trip with Grandpa). Exiting, my daughter headed north to the parking lot and when I asked where she was going (our car was to the west), she commented, "But that's where Grandpa parked. I want to see Grandpa!"

Pretty good memory for a kid who wasn't even 3 last time we were there. I'm not sure if I should be impressed or scared.

Anyhow, we made it to my sister's house at 2:30 on the dot. She answered the door wearing a nursing drape made from fabric I'd brought down for her on the last trip. Once my niece was done eating, my daughter got to see her and fell instantly in love.

I spent much of the rest of the day helping cook and clean, as well as fending off "so when are you going to have another?" and "See? Your daughter would love to have a little sibling!" comments.

My sister and I have very different perspectives on having kids. She knew all along she wanted to be a mom. For me, it took some serious bargaining and personal tragedy to do the convincing. However, for us, one is enough, and as I'm fond of telling people, "We did it right the first time--we've got a great little girl, and why mess with fate and screw it up?"

Of course, my daughter is not a teenager yet, and I may question the first part of the statement when she gets there, but she has been such a good, easy kid so far that I am really grateful.

My daughter even managed to stay "dry" (we have had an interesting potty training journey) the whole trip, including overnight at the hotel, and in the car, even though right as we entered the north LA area (about one hour from our destination), she said, "Mama, I have to go pee-pee!"

She had a great time with her cousin and then fell asleep early.

Although I had a good day, I got in no exercise (unless I try to count housecleaning) and I hurt from all the driving. And my countdown meter I swear is just sitting there laughing at me.

Living On Moroccan Time

My plan was to get to bed last night by 9:00 after packing, get up about 5:00am, load my daughter into the car, head to my sister's house, and hope to arrive (in LA) by 10:00pm.

What actually happened was I got to bed just after 11:00, woke up at 3:00am in pain, couldn't get back to sleep, gave up around 4:30, got up and started putting last-minute things together.

I was still hurting and as I calculated that I'd had about four hours of sleep. Realizing that while a 17-hour drive while sleep deprived wouldn't be the dumbest thing I've ever attempted, it would be close, so I decided to go back to bed at about 7:00am, at which point I was able to fall asleep again.

Woke up around 10:00am, and realized there was NO WAY I'd be making the trip in a one-day drive, I started looking online for an inexpensive hotel somewhere in the Sacramento area (I started to write "cheap hotel" but realized that just sounded bad).

Since I was leaving later than planned and expecting to spend the night somewhere, I figured I might as well get in a couple of errands prior to leaving. So I packed my daughter into the car with all of our stuff and departed the house about 12:00. After running the errands, instead of heading off on our way, I returned to the house at about 12:45 to pick up a bag I'd packed but hadn't put in the car, my daughter's teddy bear, and the cooler of food I'd packed for the trip (minor details).

At 1:00 we were finally on the road. Only 8 hours later than planned. Like I said, living on Moroccan time.

Around 8:00pm we stopped at a Motel 6 that I'd booked by phone after seeing a billboard advertising 39.99+tax/night. It was cheaper than any of the ones my husband had tried to look up for me over the past 45 minutes.

We arrived, hopped into the pool (which turned out to be a nice temperature for my overheated self but way too cold for my daughter), went back up to the room, took hot showers, and then answered all the phone calls from my dad, husband, and sister who were all wondering where we were and why I wasn't answering the phone since I hadn't updated any of them on the stop. Oops.

I watched an episode of "LA Ink" (about a Tattoo shop in Hollywood) and fell asleep thinking up details of the design that I want someday...

I Love My Chiropractor

Another rough night of not sleeping. My extended nap yesterday afternoon probably didn't help much, but I couldn't get to sleep again, went in my daughter's room, and finally crashed about the time it was getting light again.

When the alarm went off, I only hit snooze four or five times before I bolted out of OUCH OUCH, shouldn't have OUCH tried to bolt OUCH out of bed and gimped into the bathroom. I made a quick run to the grocery store, came home, and took off for the chiropractor.

The adjustments are only a teeny bit of the treatment. Dr. Amy (as my daughter calls her) is fantastic and most of my treatment is with her electrical stim machine, moist heat pad, and Grasston technique. I commented that if I had her electrical stim machine at home, I would never leave my massage table because I would just leave it running. It's just so soothing.

Afterwards, ran a couple more errands (including using a coupon that expired today for more bow supplies), got my husband's friend to take home a few things we've been storing for him (still slowly cleansing the house of unnecessary items), and then gave my chiropractor a massage while my husband took my daughter to a soccer game.

I actually got quite a bit done, and it wasn't until today I realized that I've really backed off of my painkillers--haven't done as well these past few days, but a lot better than before when I hadn't taken them.

Yay, more progress!

My husband also noticed my "new" wardrobe. "New" being that they are clothes I've had for years, but haven't fit into in awhile. Just a few shirts mostly, but it's nice to have some variety--and not having that variety be because I finally caved in and bought more size extra elephant clothes out of desperation.

It's Friday, So It's Family Swim Night

I just couldn't get to sleep last night. I'm not sure what it was, but I didn't seem to be able to drift off--unless I was playing a game on my Nintendo DS or reading my book.

Then I would drift off, relax my arms enough to let the game/book whack me in the face, wake me up, and I'd set it aside.

And my brain would tick tick tick tick tick and not stop working. Eventually I'd pick up the DS or my book to try and induce sleep, drift off, BONK, wake up...repeat...repeat.

At about 5:00 am, I gave up and went into my daughter's room. She's still cosleeping with us, so her room is mostly just storage for her toys and clothes, but she does have a "big girl bed" that she has slept in one full night. Three months ago. So when I can't sleep, I go in there--I seem to fall asleep more quickly.

I'm not sure if it's because it's cooler in that room, or because there aren't six other mammals trying to share the bed (although at least one cat and the dog usually try to join me on the twin sized bed--so a three-mammal count is still high), but I can usually fall asleep more quickly in there. Which I did.

But I had to get up at 8:00 to get ready for a client.

I fixed lunch for my daughter and I, we ran a few errands, and when we got back, I informed her that she had to take a nap before going swimming.

Guess who fell asleep?

That's right. NOT the three-year-old. She did nap, for a bit, but my husband didn't even wake me up when he came home. He didn't disturb me until it was time to leave for swimming.

My back was still really achy. Normally when we do family swim night, I make sure my daughter spends a fair amount of time at the beginning working on some of her skills from class before playing on the slide and splashing around in the shallow end. She enjoys it, so it's not like it's a chore.

I didn't spend that long with her before I left for the hot tub.

And after not too long, I just got out and got dressed and waited for everyone else to finish.

So I accomplished almost nothing--except that I did get a chance to go to the store where I bought my running shoes, demonstrate that they're too small, and ask how long the happiness guarantee was good for.

60 days. Which ran out about 3 weeks ago. Boogers.

Since I've really only worn those shoes on the treadmill, they look brand-new and they agreed to take them back, so next week I'm going to trade them in for ones that fit.

And they just won my business for life.

HEK Hike #3

Our third HEK hike was today. We planned a longer route, but considering my "side effects" from last week, my friends offered to carry my daughter the whole way. I also brought along the neighbor girl (the same one who helped haul the garage sale goodies) and she walked the dog, so all I had to carry was a water bottle. I'd forgotten to change out of my tennis shoes and into my hiking boots, so even my feet weren't as heavy.

Amazing how much easier a longer hike was without that extra weight.

I was still pretty overheated at the end, and a little bit headachey, but not nearly as bad as even the first week.

Afterwards, I took my daughter to her gymnastics lesson. I forgot to change out of my shoes--the ones I hadn't meant to wear on the hike--and didn't notice until I was sitting in the stands at gymnastics that I was filthy. I was almost 100% dirt all the way up to my knees.

Not to mention still bearing oh-so-attractive sweat marks on my clothing.

I don't even want to imagine what I must have smelled like. The only bonus being that I hope it was a "sweat" smell as opposed to a "couldn't get to the bathroom fast enough" smell as you couldn't really tell the difference from looking at my poor shorts.

Yes, I was looking fantastic.

Despite that, after gymnastics, I decided to go to the store. While waiting in line, my daughter, still wound up from gymnastics, was goofing around and fell. She wasn't hurt, but was a bit startled and embarrassed. She picked herself up, ran over, and grabbed onto my leg.

Then she announced, loud enough for everyone in line to hear, "OH NO, Mama! You peed in your pants!"

Acutely aware of the multiple sets of eyes now pointed directly at me, I said in the calmest voice I could manage, "No, sweetie. Mama's just all sweaty and gross."

To which the woman behind me commented, "Aren't kids GREAT?!"