Race bling: necklaces instead of finisher medals AND a PR (personal record, which in my case was finishing!) medal.

I want to write a real race report here, but my brain is not fully operational.

In fact, I’m not sleeping well and I’m a basket case, emotionally. Is this a post-race thing? I have no idea. If you’re a more experienced runner, go on and weigh in, because I’ve been a bit wonky since about 24-hours post-race.

Before I continue, let’s all accept that I will leave out some stuff, won’t mention all the people who deserve a-mentioning, and may not do my best (or even good) writing here. If you cannot agree to these terms, you should move along. I understand.

If you’re game for some rambles, here we go. Let’s talk about the course first.

This course was not my favorite. Granted, I don’t have a lot to compare it to, but I still know it was not my favorite. The handful of sheriff’s department employees and race volunteers were the only spectators until the last couple miles. There is no entertainment whatsoever, unless you count livestock.

And the hills. The hills!

I was told the last three miles would be flat. Someone needs to revisit math class to learn about angles or however it is you measure hills. With the exception of a couple flat-ish, rolling miles in the middle (I’d call most of it a false flat, because it was a long, slow climb from mile 8-to-9; at least I think that’s where it was – my memory is not 100% clear on which mile was which), the entire course is hills. Some are huge, like vertical, straight up, my car struggled with them; some are more like gentle rollers, if your idea of gentle is hauling your substantial behind up and down hills.

Thankfully, I had good company from Lisa, Nora, and Melanie during the middle of the race. I’m not so sure the tragicomedy I was writing in my head, starring race spectators Bessie the Cow and Carmine “The Big Chicken” Ragusa, would have been enough to entertain me for those miles.

Then there’s the golf course.

The last three miles were a special kind of mental torture. Miles so unpleasant that I think Guantanamo should look into a similar set-up. The mind-numbing boredom was paired with physical pain from trudging through a rat-maze-like course of rolling, concrete, golf cart paths. Hell, really.

I thought some very foul language and contemplated cheating by cutting across the course to the finish. I contemplated hard. But I don’t cheat, except for at board games. Look, Chutes and Ladders could last for hours. Someone has to end the game, for the love.

Hills from hell and imaginary conversations with roadside livestock aside, the most important bit of information is this: I finished, and I felt unbelievably good during the run. I took things really, really, really slowly, but it was the best run I’ve had in a while, as far as how I felt. My feet were light (until mile 10, the beginning of the concrete wasteland) and my head was clear (until mile 11, when I began flirting with streaking across a golf course).

I know a lot of people were praying for me. You may not believe in that, you may think it’s cheesy, you may not even be reading anymore.

I believe it made a difference, though, since the day before the race I was hurt. I had serious pain in my knee and hip with every step. And yes, I did the work, meaning I saw the sports chiropractor, then I iced, rolled out, took Advil, and rested as much as possible. But I also felt completely lifted up by the support of my friends and family. And yes, their prayers.

So there was that, for which I’m grateful.

I realize I’ve whined a lot about the course, and friends, it was hard for a first-timer. But here’s the thing (there’s always a thing): I did it, I feel amazing, aside from mild soreness, and I’m ready to go back for more. I’m ready, even if more means another round with that infernal golf course. So thank you, all of you who cheered me on during training and race day. It means everything to me.

There’s more to tell about the weekend, but, whoa, this post got long in a hurry. In summary:

* Hyatt Regency Lost Pines is beautiful (and they have good customer service – thank you, Hyatt, for responding to my check-out time dilemma).

* ZOOMA friends rock (please see the Ambassador page and the Muscle Milk Light Challenge page for a complete list of my new ZOOMA buddies – I’m so proud to know all of you!).

* Spa Django, heavenly.

* Coming home to 13 balloons, chocolate cake, and a proud family? Rocks.

Thanks to all of you!

And finally, here are some things I can now recommend as a running expert enthusiast:

* Trigger Point therapy

* Active Release Therapy (if you’re anywhere near Round Rock, TX, check out Dr. Seth Wagenblast at Active Sports Therapy)

* Pilates to stretch and strengthen hips and core (or any exercises that strengthen your core; I just happen to love Pilates and I have a great teacher if you want her name)

* Cross training (I need to do more of that)

* Compression socks and sleeves

* Good shoes (to celebrate my finish I ordered another pair of my beloved Brooks Glycerin 10s)

* Teammates or a training group (some kind of accountability)

* Body Glide

* Advil

* Tacos

I wonder…

:: If you run, what’s your favorite distance to run?

:: Any advice for recovery, especially my poor sleep and angst-y emotions?

P.S. None of the above links are sponsored. I’m just sharing them in case you want more info.

When I started this journey, I had one big goal and one smaller (tastier) goal:

:: The big one? To become a runner again. The last time I called myself a runner, the time I ran 26.2 miles in Hawaii, I had a different body and a different life. I was in my 20’s, childless, and had not yet nearly destroyed my calf muscles. That was almost a decade-and-a-half ago. I miss that woman, the one who ran.

:: My littler goal? To continue eating tacos and carbs without getting any fatter than I already am. As goals go, it’s not exactly noble. But it tastes good.

Come to mama.

Now, three months into the journey and less than a week away from the race, I’ve eaten a whole lot of tacos (breakfast tacos, lunch tacos, snack tacos…) and a few doughnuts.

More significantly, I found her. The runner woman. She’s still disguised in some extra pounds (see: tacos and carbs), but she’s closer to the surface than she has been for many years.

On the path to… me.

I think a lot about why I run. As the miles slip slowly beneath my feet, my mind wanders, stopping off at the mundane (To-Do-List-Land) and the fantastic (When-I-Win-The-Lottery-Berg). No matter what I daydream about, my mind always makes a stop at Why-Am-I-Doing-This-Ville?

I learned something over the miles: there isn’t one, simple reason to run. Depending on the day, my answers have included:

:: Community, both the abstract sense of community you get as you nod or gasp out, “Morning!” to strangers on the trail, and the concrete sense of community through something like ZOOMA. Reading blog posts and Facebook updates from ambassadors and Muscle Milk Light Half Marathon Challenge participants always lifts my spirits. Their encouragement gets me out the door on days I don’t wanna, and they talk me down from my panicky cliff when a run goes badly.

:: Gear. Really. I love all the stuff. Garmin watch, compression socks, Spibelt, tech tees, and shoes, oh my.

Compression socks. Sexy, yes? No.

:: Getting in tune with, well, me. I feel stronger, mentally and physically, after a long run. I remember now that I can. Can what? Just about whatever I decide to, that’s what. We all have our limitations, but remember: we’re not defined by our limitations – and more importantly, we can change them. In December I struggled with three miles, but today three miles is a fun, easy distance. Limitation, schmimatation.

Running in Central Park. Can’t think of better place to find myself.

:: Nature. I’m not that outdoorsy. I don’t camp, and heaven help us all if I have to hide among the trees to take care of business that God surely never intended to be an outside activity. When I’m on a run, though, I feel very Walden about it all. Gale force winds aside, I love the sun on my face and watching bluebonnets sprout along the trail. I appreciate rock formations that provide shade. I find a train trestle that once provided the pathway for moving granite used to build our state capitol building.

One of my favorite spots. I think the center rock looks like a turtle’s head. Do you see it?

:: Sanity. All that hullabaloo about endorphins happens to be true. I have a sunnier outlook when I run, and I think everyone in my house appreciates that. I don’t have the scientific evidence to back it up just now, but if we were to all Google it, I can guarantee we’d find study after study espousing the benefits of a body filled with oxygenated blood. Circulation is good, yo.

:: Food. I may have mentioned that? I’m an unapologetic lover of stuff that tastes good. Now that I’m closing in on 40, even 13.1 miles isn’t enough to warrant eating whatever I want, but it sure helps. I still have to behave myself most of the time. Running means I don’t feel guilty about the other times, though.

Homemade doughnuts. Have mercy.

Saturday is going to be hard. It’s a hilly course, and central Texas has been windy lately (oh, how I hate you, wind). When I have to dig deep, I will let my mind wander through the whys, and remember that struggle isn’t a bad thing. Struggle, in fact, is the slow process of chipping away the junk, allowing strength and character to shine through.

I wonder…

:: Why do you run (or bike or do martial arts or climb or whatever it is you do)?

***

Some ZOOMA-related business for you: Check out the Run to Chi-Town Sweepstakes. Please enter, win, and take me with you!

I’m going to say this thing anyway: puppies are ridiculously hard work. And I am tired. Not I’m-not-getting-sleep tired, but is-it-necessary-to-pee-on-all-the-things tired.

You may remember that we decided to get a dog. If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter (shameless plug: please follow me, won’t you?), you may know that we did, in fact, recently adopt. She’s not so much a dog, though, as a puppy. We ended up with Piper, an adorable three-and-a-half month old of indeterminate parentage. Austin Dog Rescue named her, and told us we could change it as the puppy was unaware she had a name. My boys loved Piper, however, and it does suit her, so the name stuck.

The pink dragon is gonna get it.

Ah, Piper. She is cute and cuddly, liking nothing more than a warm lap to wallow in. Lies. She likes chewing on my rugs and new shirts more than she likes laps. Why must puppy teeth be prison yard shiv sharp? So… laps are second place.

We all love her, but we are all weary of living with a four-legged land mine. You never know when she’s going to explode. (This is a metaphor, people: what we’re afraid of is the pee – or worse – on the floor. As far as I know, dogs do not spontaneously combust. They don’t, do they? Because that would be just my luck.)

Last week I was a shell of a woman. Mark and I slept restlessly, always sure we heard Piper whining to go out. She usually wasn’t. We arranged our daily routines around potty breaks (for the dog; we didn’t have time to take our own breaks), always keeping one eye on the land mine. It’s better this week, mostly. I mean, she’s a puppy and therefore without manners or scruples. We’re still on wee-wee watch, but we’re settling in. Kind of. At least I’m stringing together a few complete, non-dog-related, sentences each day.

I would like to offer you a masterful blog post, but since I only get a few cohesive thoughts a day, it’s not happening. I do have things I want to tell you, though. So stick around for (quite) a few more paragraphs, please?

The Things…

A Book Recommendation

I’m considering doing some book reviews in this space. At the very least, I’m going to tell you what I’m reading and whether I think you, too, should read it. I want to write a glowing review for one recent read, and perhaps I will soon, but for now: read Rules of Civility, by Amor Towles. Just do it.

I picked up Rules at BlogHer Writers over a year ago, and it sat in the queue far too long. Once I got around to reading it, I was sad I didn’t start sooner. Then I finished the book, and was sad it was over. It’s set in New York City in the late 30’s, so if you like period fiction or New York City, you will love it. I’m going to gamble and say that even if you’re not a huge fan of period fiction or NYC, you’ll like the book. You’ll like it, because it embodies all that makes story telling beautiful: multi-dimensional characters in a setting that’s as much a character as the people.

I’ve read a couple books between Rules of Civility and what I’m reading now (Mr. Penumbra’s 24 Hour Bookstore – more on that one another time), and I still think about the story often. For me, that’s the mark of a good book, when it doesn’t release you once you read the last sentence.

A Stage Recommendation

Literature, now theater. So artsy today, right? Time is running out to submit for this year’s Listen to Your Mother Show in Austin. If you have a mother, are married to a mother, are a mother, know a mother, then you have a motherhood story. Please consider telling your story.

And please plan to attend the show. You will not be sorry, I personally ga-RON-tee it (Justin Wilson, anyone?). It’s not a money back ga-RON-tee or anything, but that won’t matter because you would never ask for such a thing because you are going to love the show. Thursday, May 9, AT&T Executive Education and Conference Center. Be there. If you’re not in Austin, check the Listen To Your Mother website for a show near you, since there are 23 other shows to choose from, all across this great country of ours.

A Race Recommendation

Oh, yes, I’m still training for the Zooma Texas Half Marathon in March. Man, has it been a bumpy road, but really, if I ever say I’m having an easy, pain-free season nobody will believe me. My IT band is acting up, and my problem foot still hurts frequently. I’m in love with compression socks, ART, and Trigger Point; they are my trifecta of pain relief, and I will gladly talk for many, many minutes about the benefits of each if you’re interested. Email me (wonderfriendblog @ gmail dot com) if you have nagging sports injuries and want my thoughtful thoughts on recovery.

Anyway, as for my training, some days I doubt myself, sure. Some days I feel like a beast. Most days it’s a combo, switching from beast to bumbling idiot and back every few steps. I know from past experience that it might hurt, and there are no ga-RON-tees on race day, but everyone who crosses that finish line will feel positively beastly, in the best sense of the word. So I beg you to join me on March 23 to run either a 5K or a half marathon. I’ve mentioned the wine and massages, haven’t I? You can register here and use my fancy, schmancy code while you’re at it: TXAMB6

That’s all, folks. For today anyway. The land mine is whining and the two-legged children are restless. I’m headed outside to watch the kids stuff rocks down each other’s pants while the puppy eats mulch.

I wonder…

:: Have any puppy-raising tips for me?

Slow and Steady: that was the name of my band in college. Kidding, of course. My band’s name was Sorority Girls Drinking Zima. And it wasn’t a band so much as a Thursday night.

Anyway.

I am a slow and steady runner. The other day I thought I was flying, running the fastest I’ve run in years. I looked at my Garmin – a watch that makes me feel like a cool, runner-girl even if I’m an old, runner-lady – and my pace was exactly the same as it always is. Slow.

I struck up a conversation with a woman on the trail the other day (Fun Fact: strangers talk to me, and I have no idea why. I have to fake death to avoid chatty seatmates on airplanes). I was on a five-mile training run, and H was riding his bike with me. I stopped to stretch out my latest ailment, a nerve issue that gives me numb-foot, and this woman started chatting me up.

It turns out she’s a triathlon coach, and is new to the area, so we talked trails and training until H reminded me that we had to get home before dark, Mooooommmm. And then he turns to this stranger and says, “We have to go, because she is the slowest runner ever. I’m going as slow as I can on my bike, and she still can’t keep up!”

First of all, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers, kid? And secondly, I have to nod in agreement, because it’s true. This woman, God bless her, looked at H and said, “But she’s not sitting on the couch, she’s out here getting it done and that’s what matters.”

Ha, take that, kid. I sit on the couch when you’re at school, sucker.

I saw something in H’s eyes when the kindly stranger pointed out that logging the miles is as important as going fast. I saw what looked like understanding, and – perhaps – pride? That look made the last couple miles easier, lighter. Later he told me that I was “super strong even though you’re not super fast,” because he was tired after five miles on his bike.

Maybe I am strong. Maybe I’ll never be fast (but, please, oh, please let me get a little faster), and I’ll probably never grace the podium after a race, but I’m going to finish. I just hope it’s not dark when I cross the finish line.

***

A little business to take care of…

1. Plenty of time left to register for ZOOMA Texas. There’s a 5K and half marathon, followed by wine and massages. The race is at the Hyatt Lost Pines, where there’s a lazy river, people. Registering is a no-brainer, really. What are you waiting for? Register here.
2. There’s a race in San Antonio this weekend that sounds very cool. I’m not able to go, but wanted to share it with you, just in case you’re looking to log some miles this weekend. Here are the details:

WHO: The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and Team in Training

WHAT: Inaugural HERO-THON Half Marathon San Antonio

WHEN: Sunday, January 27, 2013, 7:00 a.m.

WHERE: Alamodome
100 Montana Street
San Antonio, TX 78205

• First ever race for the HERO-THON Half Marathon Series that will soon have more races scheduled throughout the country
• Open to runners and walkers of all abilities
• The course starts and finishes at the Alamodome and takes participants through some of San Antonio’s most famous landmarks (River Walk and downtown included)
• There is a Finish Line Festival for participants to celebrate their accomplishment and cancer survivors after the race
• Funds raised from the race go to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS) as they dedicate themselves to finding cures for blood cancers
• The HERO-THON brings out the inner-superhero in everyone
• REGISTRATION – Half Marathon registration is available online at herothonlls.com;  Will also be available at the race expo on Saturday at the Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Center,  and on race morning, Sunday, at the Alamodome. Entry is $95

About the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society

• World’s largest voluntary health agency dedicated to funding blood cancer research.
• There are 61 chapters throughout the U.S. and Canada and Austin is home to the South Central Texas Chapter.
• The organization invested $76 million in blood cancer research in 2012.
• Mission is to cure leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin’s disease and myeloma.
• Every four minutes, someone is diagnosed with a blood cancer and every 10 minutes, someone dies.

Me, either. Pencil required, friends. And it doesn’t hurt to have a few smart friends to go with that pencil. Or, better, the Crossword Puzzle Dictionary that belonged to my husband’s grandparents.

Confession: I don’t understand how to use a crossword puzzle dictionary. I get it, but I don’t get it. With me? My grandparents-in-law got it, got it. Take a look at this baby.

Inscription is dated Christmas, 1973.

Mary gave them the book in 1973 and they used the tar out of it. The last page of z’s is in particularly bad shape. By the way, a six-letter word for zymogen activating substance? Kinase. You’ll thank me the next time that clue appears on your People crossword. Like that’s ever going to happen.

That’s right. I called you out for doing the People crossword in lieu of the Times puzzle. But I can do you one better than People (Who came up with that ridiculous phrase, “do you one better,” anyway? What a stupid thing to say.). I, my friends, love the USA Today crosswords. I hoard them, and any time I’m feeling stuck when writing, I bust out a puzzle.

These USA Today puzzles? They make feel real smart, like. I do them on my iPad app, but if I were working one on paper I’m pretty sure I would only have to use my eraser three, maybe four, times. Probably.

Every once in a while, though, a clue will throw me. I sit there, the rage brewing, angry at the puzzle for mocking me. Ninety-five percent of the time, it turns out that I misread the clue. So for you today, I give you some of my favorite crossword puzzle misunderstandings.

Clue: Boots from power, 5 letters.
What I’m thinking: Like boots that come from a place of power? Zappos, for example, since they surely hold a huge percentage of the online shoe market, making them very powerful? Zappos is 6 letters, though, and also not a synonym for boots… I am stuck. Stuck, stuck, stuck.
Actual answer: Ousts.

Clue: Haw partner, 3 letters.
What I’m thinking: Hee, of course. Classic television, right there. Minnie Pearl with those price tags on her hats!
Actual Answer: Hem.

Clue: Unstable star, 4 letters.
What I’m thinking: Diva. Nobody likes working with a diva, and everybody knows they’re unstable.
Actual answer: Nova.

I could go on, but I’m finished embarrassing myself for today. Or at least for the next few minutes.

***

While I have you here, though (I do still have you here, right?)…

Remember when I asked you to run away with me? Well now, ladies and gentlemen, we can run away at a discount. Once again, I’m doing you one better.

If you’re thinking about doing the ZOOMARun Texas in March – and let’s face it, you know you’re thinking about – you can use this handy, dandy discount code to get 10% off of your race registration fee for either the 5K or the half marathon. You can’t do them both, I’m sorry. You must pick one, you overachievers.

So here it is, the magic code:

TXAMB6

Type (or copy/paste if you’re fancy) that code into your registration form – don’t worry, you’ll know where to put the code, it’s not tricky – and you’ll save 10%.

And one last thing, while we’re talking ZOOMA. If you’re in or near Austin and want to kick off your training with me and the rest of the ambassadors, I have more good news for you: You can, you can! We’ll be kicking off our training season on Saturday, January 5 at 8 a.m. at Luke’s Locker in beautiful downtown Austin. More details coming in early December, but go ahead and pencil in – no, write it in pen – the date now.

That is all for now. Except for this:

I wonder…

:: This one’s a bit random, but I love (loooove) the smell of books. I keep a lot of books we inherited from our families in my dining room, in glass-paned cabinets. Every so often, I open one of the cabinets just to breathe in the book goodness. What’s a smell that warms your heart?

:: Back to crosswords. If you’re a puzzler, why? Does it relax you? Make you feel smart?

Cabinet of good smells. And almost-never-used china. I left the doors open so you could smell the goodness, too.

He’s right. I am slow. So if – and I’m just what-iffing here, of course – I do run away one day, I’ll probably take the car.

You know what’s great for those days when you do have one hand on your suitcase and the other hand reaching for the car keys? Exercise, that’s what. Oh, stop rolling your eyes at me (I’m looking at you, Mom). I get it; I know it’s extra annoying to hear fit people talk about how great they feel after a workout.

But this isn’t like that! For starters, I’m not really all that fit. I ate DOTS for dinner last night. Clearly, I am the last person to give you a fitness lecture. And yet… in spite of my many shortcomings, I am passionate about incorporating exercise into my life. It’s kind of a necessity when your favorite food group is sugar, followed closely by salt.

The truth is, exercise alone doesn’t thrill me. Training for a race, however, especially when I’m part of a group with similar goals? Now that is fun. Really. Those famous endorphins are not a myth, and coupled with some great conversation and laughs, well, it’s good stuff. That’s why, even though I’m not a naturally gifted athlete, I love (truly love – I’m not exaggerating) training. It also helps me remember to eat better, which is a benefit.

And that’s why I could not pass up the chance to be an ambassador for the ZOOMA Women’s Race Series. Specifically, I’m an ambassador for the Texas race, coming up in March at the gorgeous Hyatt Regency Lost Pines. Check out this video (and then keep reading – ZOOMA is giving away race registration and spa treatments for you and a friend).

[Yeah, so I cannot get the video to embed. I’ll keep working on it. For now, click here to watch Run to ZOOMA Texas on YouTube.]

So come on, run away with me. To the Hyatt, where there is a spa. Sure, I kind of expect you to also run with me. Just think how much better that spa treatment will feel with a race finish under your belt.

Want to win a couple race entries and massages? Go here, to the ZOOMA Run to Texas Giveaway and follow the directions.

I’ll see you at the race in March. Right? That’s the spirit! Lace up those shoes and start training. Go on now…

I realize that it’s been a long time since I posted anything in the Food or Fitness categories. And truthfully, I’m kind of busy looking for new sandals on Endless today, so I almost kept up the no-posting streak. But then I thought, maybe just a quick update.

This? Is not me. Cool picture, though, right?*

I’m sure you all remember – because the goings-on of my life are exactly what you retain in your long-term memory –  that I completed my first triathlon in 2011. I intended to do that same race again this year, but life got in the way. I didn’t get to train as much as I wanted, or needed, to. Instead, I picked another race that gave me a little more time, and that race happens to be on Sunday. If you don’t hear from me next week, it’s possible I’m in traction.

You also may remember that I have issues with my feet and calves. Undiagnosed-maybe-plantar-faciitis-maybe-just-defective issues. After years of doctors and various therapies, my vote is for plain, old defectiveness. Throw some old age on top of the plain old and it’s a full time party around here. In 2001 I gave up on running, but in my heart I wasn’t done. Last year I walked the run portion of the tri and that was, how do I put this? Boring. And long. And I did not like it at all.

Thanks to my new best friend(s), I will run the race on Sunday. I won’t be fast or anything, but I’m going to run. How? It’s all thanks to a good doctor and these magic tools from Trigger Point Performance Therapy. No, this isn’t a sponsored post (but I do need a Grid roller, Trigger Point, so if you want to sponsor me via throwing one of those my way, that would be just fine with me).

I decided to tell you about Trigger Point not because I’m being paid to, but in case you, too, have suffered from mystery pain. Or even if you have pain with a name. Learning to use the tools provided me with relief I’ve been hunting for since 2001. Granted, I still have some pain in my heel. It’s manageable, though, and if I stay on top of rolling, stretching, and hydration (okay, so it is a bit of work to keep up with all of this), I’m able to run.

We’re all very excited about this, yes?

And that, friends, is my fitness update. Still no food update, except to tell you that I have eaten some today and will likely eat more in the near future.

I’m toying with a different kind of post for next week – something a little more feeling-y than I have posted here lately. If feelings aren’t your thing, don’t come around on Tuesday. If you want to see if I use bad words (yep) and tell a not so pretty truth (yep again), then I’ll see you Tuesday. Until then,

I wonder…

:: Have you ever had a mystery pain? What did you do about it?

:: Does anyone have a favorite tip for for staying motivated during long runs? (Not that I’m doing any long runs yet, but I would like to.)

*Photo credit: jolisoleil on Flikr

Thank goodness for Wednesdays and guest bloggers. Instead of me forgetting I have a blog this week, you get this amazing post from one of my Austin Bloggers friends, Evin, the owner of Food Good, Laundry Bad. If what you see in the mirror doesn’t match what you see in your mind, this post is for you. In fact, if you’ve ever had to wrap your head around any kind of new normal, whether your body, your career, your life in general, this post will resonate.

***

From the time I hit puberty until I was 27, I was fat, overweight, chubby, obese.

I stopped getting on the scale around 22, and I was right at 250 pounds then. June 1, 2006, I had gastric bypass surgery. The day I had the surgery, I had to step onto a scale and actually look at the numbers. I was 356 pounds. That’s the same weight as 2 adult males.

I hated my body and just knew that everything wrong in my life was because of “the fat.”

If I could just lose “the fat,” my life would turn around. Every bad grade in school was because the teacher didn’t like me because I was fat, not because I hadn’t studied. Every job I didn’t get was because the employer didn’t want to hire a fat person, not because I was poorly qualified for the job. Every date I didn’t go on was because I was so fat, not because I was socially awkward and goofy.

So I had the gastric bypass, KNOWING that it would be a magical event that would change my life. I’d get the best job, finish school, find a husband, and live happily ever after. Right? RIGHT? Wrong.

“Fat” in our society is more than a physical description. It’s a way of life. A mindset. I still have a fat brain. I turn sideways to get through narrow-ish spaces, even though my now-slim body will fit through it just fine. I still head to the plus size section of the clothing stores and pick out tunic tops. I have sex with most of my clothes on, and the lights off. I never assume that the cute guy is looking at me, he must be looking at my friend.

So I wonder… will I ever get used to this?

I’m 34, and I have three kids. I want my kids to know a happy, active, regular-brained mom. I worry about going to the park because what if I get tired? I have tons of energy (compared to before… I’m 34 and have three kids, I’m pretty much worn out all the time) so I can “do” the park without a problem, physically. That shouldn’t even occur to me! It’s six years later and while I know what to eat and how to physically take care of the tool the bypass gave me, I don’t know how to reprogram my fat brain. I still don’t have the degree, the job, or the husband. Losing “the fat” didn’t help anything. I still have the fat brain and it’s holding me back.

I wonder if I’ll have to be thin as long as I was fat before my brain will adjust? I hope not, I was fat for a very long time and that would make me a very old lady. I hope my brain catches up soon, that’s for sure. I’m ready to believe that I’m as cute as people say I am, and to think as healthy as I feel.

I wonder…

:: Does anyone else’s brain works this way?

***

About the Writer

Evin is a stay-at-home-mom of three kids shacked up in the country, laughing her way through piles of laundry taller than her children. She writes about food, family and failing at housework at her blog Food Good, Laundry Bad, and you can find her snarking it up on Twitter at @evinschmevin.

My new ride.

And now I guess I have to ride this bike.

I know it’s ridiculous, but this bike scares me. The clips scare me, because I will fall over. It’s simply a matter of when, not if. You all can start a betting pool now.

But it’s not only falling that scares me. Road rash and shame, unappealing though they are, are temporary. I’m much more afraid of that bike gathering dust in my garage. I look at it and hear the two voices that are constantly bickering inside my head:

Whheeee! A new bike! Just imagine all the great rides ahead of you.

vs.

When, exactly, do you plan to do all of this riding? And do you really expect to ever achieve anything bigger than finishing a little sprint triathlon? Who are you kidding, lady?

A) Don’t tell me you have peaceful silence in your head. Please tell me that you, too, have conflicting self-talk going on.

B) That second voice is bitchy, right?

I think that this latest fear – and doubt – are only a glimpse into my psyche. And possibly a lot of other psyches, as well. I can’t be alone, or else Pinterest, wouldn’t be plastered with quotes like this:

I’m a realist: I know that failure is always a possibility. I tell my kids that it’s much better to work hard and fail than to wonder what if…? And I believe that. I do.

And yet… I think I let the idea of failure hold me back more than I like to admit. You know, if I’m going to tell my kids that they have to be okay falling on their faces, I need to fall on mine sometimes.

I’ve heard people quote this line a few times – What would you attempt if you knew you could not fail?

There’s something to that; I kind of think you do have to approach your goals under the delusion that you cannot, will not fail. But you also have to be prepared to fail, and accept failure as part of the learning process. Is that too Pollyanna?

Just for grins, if I could guarantee success here’s what I would do:

An Iron Man

This may truly may be hilarious, since I’m clearly never getting rid of my plantar faciitis, but still. This is a no-fail scenario, so bite me, plantar faciitis.

Act, On Stage, In a Play

I’ve always said I couldn’t be an actor, because I’m awful at it. That may be the case, but I have no idea if I’m awful or not. My last role was Big Billy Goat Gruff in kindergarten. But since this is a no fail thing, I’m probably going to walk away with a Tony.

This is real life, however, and not my no-fail la-la land. So I’m going to start by taking that bike out for a ride. If you see me, please maneuver your car way far away from me, so that you don’t run over me. And also so I don’t try to wave at you, causing me to lose my balance and fall over because I couldn’t get my feet out of those clips fast enough.

I wonder…

:: Cheesy though it is, what would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?

:: What are your wise words on tackling goals and trying new things?

*The bike is a she and she’s nameless. Any thoughts?

A few birthdays ago. I should probably stretch and warm up before blowing out candles this year.

My birthday is this week. {I’ll pause while you whoop it up in my honor.}

I’m closing in on 40, and as of this week have only two more years to be a 30-something. I know some of my readers are thinking so young! and others are thinking banana peel, grave!

I’ll tell you what I’m thinking: aging is no joke.

I read magazines. I’ve seen the warnings and the tips. I’ve seen an article a month for the last two decades about the aging process.

How to Turn Your Supermarket Into A Time Machine: Foods That Stop Aging in Its Tracks!

Your Boobs Are Old: Medical Tests You Must Have in Your 40s!

Straight From Hogwarts, We Have Magical Face Creams: Caring for Your Older Skin!

How to Make the Best of Your Coldwater Creek Credit Card Because You Can Barely Pull Off Banana Republic Or Gap and Don’t Even Think About H&M or Forever 21!

Over the years, reading these headlines led to a suspicion that our bodies change around the time we cross the threshold from 35-ish to old. Lately, my suspicions have been confirmed.

I expect things like deteriorating vision, slower metabolism, and an inability to work most technical devices. I did not expect daily life to become so hazardous just yet. I thought I had 30-40 more years before removing all the rugs to create a completely even walking surface.

So much for that. I offer you my latest list of aches and pains, and how I acquired them.

Injury: Sore shoulder.
Cause: Taking off a sports bra.

Injury: Strained gluteus maximus muscle.
Cause: Uh, no idea. Sitting, maybe. Or squating down to pick up one of my orthotic shoe inserts?

Injury: Achy, popping elbow.
Cause: Sleeping.

Injury: Twisted knee.
Cause: Putting on tights.

Injury: Stiff hip joints.
Cause: Sitting criss-cross apple sauce at the Little Gym.

Injury: Pinched nerve in my neck.
Cause: Sneezing.

I wonder…

:: I frequently forget that I’m not in my 20s, but there are days when my body won’t let me forget. Do you ever feel surprised by changes in your physical abilities (we’re not even going there with brain power… that’s a whole different post. What was I saying? Oh, yeah, I wonder…)?