What NOT to ask a woman: a post about body image

I just returned to the U.S. from my week-long trip to Italy for a professional workshop/conference. In fact, I'm currently sitting at the airport, waiting for the last leg of my trip home. It's been a long 24 hours. When I've recovered from jet lag and uploaded and sifted through my pictures, I'll post some. Italy was a great experience on both personal and professional levels; I was expecting it to go well, but it far exceeded my expectations.

But I wanted to talk about something that happened while I was at the workshop, something that chipped away at what I thought was a solider-than-ever self-image.

The first day, I wore a dress. I've worn this dress various times in various settings, and I was under the impression that I look nice in it. I felt confident in it. But during dinner that evening, someone asked me whether I was pregnant. And then the next day, when I was wearing just my usual jeans and t-shirt combo, someone ELSE asked if I was pregnant! I'm not pregnant. At all. No chance. Awkward. I felt worse for the people who asked (both women, by the way) than for myself because I know how awful it feels to mess up like that. (Although come on. Is it not a well-known universal rule that you NEVER EVER EVER ask someone if she's pregnant?!?)

Now. Granted, I'd been eating a lot of delicious food without trying to limit myself, but a) it wasn't like I was gorging and b) even if I was, can a food baby grow THAT fast? I kept looking in the mirror to see whether I'd somehow expanded significantly within a timespan of 48 hours, but to me, I looked like... the same old me.

I have never had a flat stomach. I didn't have one before I was pregnant, and I don't have one now - especially because growing a human in my uterus resulted in some spectacular stretch marks and skin that will never re-learn how to bounce back. A good diet, lots of exercise - I see the difference when I work out and feed my body well, but I have come to the conclusion that I will never lose my curves or my soft belly. You could make me an island castaway, Tom Hanks style, and even on a diet of raw fish and coconut milk, my belly would still be there. (Maybe I could paint a little smiley face on it and make it my own personal Wilson...)

I don't resent the women who asked me (though I do question their social skills). I get that they weren't trying to insult me. After all, pregnant bodies are gorgeous. I DO resent the self-consciousness that has started to creep back in. Over the past few months I've started to feel really strong. I've started to feel more appreciative of my body, in spite of (and because of) its "flaws." And now I'm being critical of myself again. I also wonder how many other people have wondered whether I'm pregnant, thanks to my somewhat chubby middle. 

I think, too, that the incident recalls some bad memories. Like when I was 16 and a peer told me that I had "great legs and great hair," but that I "just needed to work on my stomach." Or, worse, when my (former) best friend told me that she'd always felt bad for me because I tried so hard to keep myself in shape but I couldn't lose the tummy. Or when my mom asked me, a few weeks (WEEKS) after the birth of my son whether I was pregnant again, whilst patting my middle. 

Oy.

I just have to keep reminding myself that:

-people come in lots of different shapes and sizes, and that diversity is beautiful.

-a strong body doesn't have to be a skinny body.

-a healthy body doesn't have to be a skinny body.

-there are soooooooo many other things to worry about - things that are more important by multiple orders of magnitude.

-sometimes people don't think before they speak, but that doesn't make them bad or rude people. I have a muffin top; they have foot-in-mouth disease.

Anyway, I'll share a couple links to articles along these lines:

"Half," by Julia Kozerski

If Lady Gaga is considered overweight, then our society has truly lost its marbles 

What makes you feel self-conscious about your body? And what do you like/love about it?

Friday Five: Prepping for Italy edition!

1. I'm going to Italy tomorrow! I'll be there for a week, participating in a conference/workshop a couple hours north of Rome. I'm nervous about traveling, not knowing the language (though I can count from zero to twenty in Italian!), and the potential for coming across as a total dunce at this workshop, but mostly I'm just excited. September in Italy is supposed to be beautiful, and made all the more beautiful by Italian wine and Italian coffee.

2. This week's mileage:

Sunday: 15 miles (see previous post)

Tuesday: 5 miles

Wednesday: Xtend Barre class

Thursday: 4 miles

Friday (today!): 13 miles! I stayed home, packed, and went on the 13-miler with my husband. The weather was sunny and cool, and my legs felt good for most of it. I'm bringing my running attire to Italy and will go out for a jog if I have time. But if not, at least I completed this week's long run, and hopefully I can get right back into the swing of my marathon-prep schedule when I return.

I'm not sure I've ever run 37 miles in less than 6 days before!

3. I went shopping today for travel snacks, and I found THESE. At TARGET! 

Nutritionally-complete (well, mostly), gluten-free, vegan travel snacks. I never thought I'd see the day. True, I don't like the amount of packaging these require, but there's some measure of comfort in knowing that even though I'll be spending a total of >15 hours in flying metal sardine cans, at least I'll have snacks that I can eat and that taste good.

4. I hate packing. I do it a lot and it never gets any easier. I'm trying to stuff everything into a backpack and a small suitcase. Should be totally doable, but somehow I'm struggling.

5. I am grateful for:

-awesome family

-awesome friends

-awesome therapy guy

-awesome advisor

-health - especially that I am healthy enough to run

-pharmaceuticals that work, and that I have been feeling like a normal, relatively happy person lately (knock on wood)

-the ability to grow and to gain new insights, even from familiar experiences

-wine

-hummus

-travel opportunities

-blogs (I love reading blogs! My guilty pleasure.)

-Blue jeans

-New episodes of Guiliana and Bill on Netflix

How to create a coffee eruption

Step-by-step instructions:

1. Wake up earlier than you'd like to for a run. Make sure you're super groggy and running late.

2. Grind coffee beans. Place in filter. Turn coffee machine on.

3. Wait five minutes.

4. Realize you forgot to add water.

5. Turn coffee pot off, just to be safe.

6. Pour water into coffee maker.

7. Wait as the steam created by the pouring of cold water into hot container somehow wends its way up up through the base of the coffee filter.

8. Watch coffee grinds shoot into the air and land all over the counters, floor, and you.

9. Curse a little.

10. Clean up grinds, dust yourself off, and go for a five-mile run.

BIG DAY, Part 2: 15 miles DONE!

To quote Dora the Explorer, We did it! We did it! Yaaaaay!

This run could be broken into three chapters: Chapter 1 (miles 1-5): Misery. Chapter II (miles 6-12): Feeling Fine! Chapter III: Calf Muscles are Screaming, But I Can Ignore Them For Now (miles 13-15).

Chapter I: Misery

Yesterday afternoon was hot. I think it was actually somewhere around 80-85 degrees, but the sun was blazing, so it felt more like 95. I don't run well in the heat - unfortunate, since this is the south and temps can be consistently, uncomfortably high for up to 1/3 of the year.

Within the first block, I could tell that I was not going to have an easy time of it. Running Friend was chatting, not out of breath at all. I was entirely focused on just putting one foot in front of the other, and my mood declined with each passing mile. RF wanted to talk, share stories - but she soon realized that it was going to be a pretty one-sided conversation. I wasn't having any of it. I think I may have growled at her a couple of times, and then she backed off and we ran in silence.

Sometimes that's the best I can do. Sometimes I need to go totally into myself and block out everything and everyone around me. I know I can run the distance - but sometimes I have to go to a place of quiet, angry determination to make it happen. This is how I am in running and in life. I overcome challenges, I push through, but it's never very pretty.

The worst part of this phase was when we were running on the shoulder of a very busy road and another running buddy, who'd agreed to join us for 4-5 miles, suddenly ran up behind me with a chipper hello. Scared the crap out of me, and I just about decked him. I have quite the startle response.

Chapter II: Feeling Fine!

Once some clouds rolled in and we veered off onto more shaded roads, I started to feel better. I had some water and a Hammer Nutrition gel, and within two minutes my energy level ramped up. Suddenly I was talkative and light on my feet.

The roads were still busy, but not AS busy, and that also helped me feel calmer. By mile 10 I could feel my calf muscles starting to get grouchy, and I had a cramp around my ribcage. But those things seemed way more tolerable than the heat, which by then had dissipated significantly.

At around mile 12 we stopped at a grocery store for a quick water break. I felt tired, but by then I knew the last three miles were going to be okay.

Chapter III: Calf Muscles are Screaming, But I Can Ignore Them For Now

I was worried about my knee going into this run, but it was a non-issue. My calf muscles, on the other hand, were totally seized up by the end of the run. Thinking back, I recalled that this had been a problem when my husband and I had trained for our first marathon 10 years ago. My lungs had been fine, my energy levels had been manageable, but sore legs had been a real drag.

Nevertheless, I kept putting one foot in front of the other, and soon we we'd reached our goal.

RF let me hang out at her place for an hour or so to ice my knees, guzzle another bottle of water, and take an Advil. That post-race care seems to have worked, because when I woke up this morning, my legs felt fine. A little sore, but way less than I'd expected.

Oddly, the thing that's bothering me more are my shoulders. My right one is particularly sore. Maybe my posture was poor by the end of the run.

Now I'm drinking coffee and a peach/banana/blueberry/kale smoothie and trying to make myself get started on a work project.

Any tips on dealing with leg cramps during long runs?

BIG DAY, part 1: Prepping for 15 miles

Today's the day Running Friend (RF) and I run 15 miles in prep for the Space Coast Marathon. I'm excited, but also pretty nervous. I have a tendency to be quite slow and creaky for the first two or three or four miles. If I don't start out well, my positive mentality fades and then I have to fight the entire way. Maybe this will be one of those rare runs where I feel like I am treading on air... Here's hoping!

Also, if I'm being totally honest with myself, my knee is a bit wonky. But I can't tell if that's from running too much or sitting too much. Oftentimes, the latter makes my leg really achy. I'm going to ice it for a bit this morning, in case it's a little inflamed.

While we're running, another friend will be watching my son. I hope he does okay today... After his nap yesterday afternoon, he was a whole lot less cranky, way more cuddly, AND he slept like a rock last night. So I'm hopeful that Saturday's stressful drama was just a blip.

Parenting FAIL day

My husband is out of town, so it's just me and my son this weekend. So far, not so good.

It started when my son decided he wanted to do a craft project at 6:30 a.m.

Him: You have TWO choices: make glitter butterflies or build a LEGO house.
Me: I need coffee. I can't do anything until I've had breakfast and coffee.
Him: That isn't one of the choices.
Me: I'll help you with a craft after I've had breakfast and coffee.
Him: NOT ONE OF THE CHOICES.

At which point I retreated to the bedroom, put a pillow over my head, and said I was feeling sick. Then I stared at the ceiling and thought about how this "You have X choices" thing his teacher is using to get her students to do stuff is totally backfiring.

Then my friend (a former college golfer) texted me, offering to give my son the golf lessons he's been asking for. Great! I'm pumped, he's pumped, we have a cheap club from Goodwill, we're ready. We meet my friend at the park. My son takes his first aim at the tennis ball she's provided to help him get used to swinging. He misses.

Cue a temper tantrum that could put one of John McEnroe's rants to shame. He threw a golf club, marched around, screamed, said he was DONE. I suppose we should have gone home right then and there, but my friend had driven a ways to meet us, and we'd had to drive a decent distance, too, so we stuck around and I practiced hitting tennis balls while Cranky McGee wandered around muttering angrily to himself.

Later, we went to the bookstore. He asked for a cookie. Conversation:

Him: Mommy, I am really hungry. I need a snack.
Me: I brought grapes and Cheerios.
Him: But I don't want those! Here are your three choices. Points at three different cookies, each the size of his head if not larger.
Me: No cookies today.
Him: YOU AREN'T LISTENING TO THE CHOICES!!!
Me: This is causing too much drama. We're leaving.

At which point he REALLY let it rip, and the entire store and parking lot got an earful until I had him packed up into his carseat.

Five minutes from home, he fell asleep. He's still sleeping.

Maybe he misses my husband. Maybe he's exceptionally tired. I don't know, but he's not usually this volatile. He's a lot like I was when I was little, so I'm trying to be sensitive while still setting boundaries and expectations.

It's just hard sometimes. Parenting is not easy and a lot of times it's not particularly fun. I often feel like I have no idea what I'm doing, and that even though I'm trying my best, it isn't good enough.

Daydreaming of the Alps

Jill's descriptive posts about the Tour des Geants have me reminiscing about the month I spent hiking in the mountains of Germany, Austria, and Italy.

It was a long time ago. Eight years ago. I can't believe so much time has passed since then, and how quickly. I have fond memories of: the huts, muesli, calloused feet, stinky wool socks, near-vertical ascents up wooded slopes, fluorescent shoelaces, via ferrata, breathtaking views.

It was one of those times when you know you're in the midst of a special experience. Jill's pictures, and these pictures, make me want to go back.

"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds." - Edward Abbey