Now, 66.5% Fat-Free!

I had my first appointment with my tri-nutritionist yesterday. She measured my body fat with some newfangled piece of equipment that shoots electricity through your body (something like that). Result?

33.5 percent

Of FAT. (I share because I care!) Not the lovely 28.5 percent that the YMCA found at its so-called "fitness evaluation" back on March 1, 2008.

But the lovely Rebecca has a plan. I loves me a plan. My plan is to drop 10 pounds. Her plan is to get me to 30 percent body fat, and then skip on over to 25 percent body fat. Her plan will be delivered at my 2-week follow up, in um, 2 weeks. (It would have been one week but I have my COLONOSCOPY scheduled for this Friday. Is it strange that I'm looking forward to it because it means I get a day off from work?? Also, do stand by for complete coverage. If Katie Couric can do it, so can I.)

It's well established that people who log their food every day have a statistically higher percentage of weight loss than those who don't (not that that's ever convinced me). But this time, what the hey, I'm logging my intake over at livestrong.com, which has forums, workout logs, a database of every food item on the planet, and calculates everything automagically.

Nutritionist-to-the-Ironmen R. also said I only need to eat half a banana or a half-glass of orange juice before working out in the a.m. I had been eating a bowl of oatmeal with fruit and nuts and soymilk. (So. Freaking. Healthy.) Then I'd workout. Then I'd get to work and have breakfast number 2. Apparently? That's one too many breakfasts.

Who know knww KNEW?

So far I am TOTALLY FOLLOWING THE PLAN. (Today is day one.)

This was also day one of return to spinning. I discovered that my YMCA has spinning classes. And attendance is included in my membership fee. That fee that I'm already paying monthly. So all last year I paid my YMCA fee and then paid again to go spin at another gym. Granted it was worth the money to indulge my spin-instructor crushes.

I don't think I'll develop much of a crush on this spin instructor, although she's very lovely. However, she only played two "real" songs: Coldplay and Eva Cassidy. The rest of the time she played that technoeuropeanfakemusic (no offense). I felt like the lights should have been off, I should have had a drink and a cig in my hand, and someone should have feeding me pickup lines. Other than that, it was great! One hour in the bank of what-do-I-do-during-off-season.

Thirdly, the lovely people at Timex graciously sent me a heart rate monitor, which is terrific since I am too cheap to buy one.


They asked me to check out their triathlon training plans at www.timextrainer.com, and tossed in a heart rate monitor. I haven't checked out the tri training plans yet, but I have tested the heart rate monitor. And my verdict is this: It works perfectly. Except it's a little basic. It reports 1) your heart rate while you're exercising (although you can tap a button to get elapsed time but that's kind of a pain), and 2) your elapsed time at the end along with 3) your max and average heart rates during your exercise. So no splits. And no storing of any data.

So I can use this, but then I'll need to wear a watch if I want to time splits. If you're going to spring for a heart rate monitor, the

Personal Heart Rate Monitor
Price: US $50.00
Product Code: T5G941F5

is probably not the one, unless you ONLY want your heart rate.

Fourthly, I found a new running trail. I've lived in Bethesda for 12 years. I don't know when this trail opened, but it's RIGHT ACROSS the street from the YMCA to which I've been going for years. Sometimes it actually pays to look up. Especially when you're driving.

Anyway, I found the Bethesda Trolley Trail. It has bridges over two highways, it goes up and it goes down. It abruptly stops at some places and then starts again. It's near home.

I don't know whether it's the newness factor, but I've been pumping out 4.31 miles (slowly) never even thinking about walking (jinx).

I could go on, but I got me a debate to watch. Don't think that I haven't been developing new skills though, people. NBTR is all about the skillz:
Wowing my knitting audience with mad guitar hero skillz

It Can Only Mean One Thing

When your spinning instructor? Promises to bring in a CD for you next week? And then he actually does? And not only brings in the CD? But brings you a MIX CD of the great Lila Downs? With songs from like more than just one CD? And then tells you where he went to high school (Barcelona)? And what year he graduated (1976)? And answers your questions about whether he speaks Spanish? And you have an ENTIRE conversation? About whether or not he still uses Spanish? And he says yes, but only with the gardeners, and with "OUR" housecleaners?

It can only mean one thing.

He's definitely married.

Spin Me

So this morning at 6:30 was spinning. With the very well put together Peter.

Remember my love affair with spin instructor Jeff? No?? Well Jeff made me laugh my head off. It was like spinning with, oh, I don't know, George Carlin. So that alone made me fall in love. But he stopped teaching, to focus on his triathlon career. Selfish bas****!!!

Then came T, a chick who was a no-show one morning at 6:30. Which is so against all the rules it's not even funny. And then the next week she showed up 20 minutes late. Mysteriously, she doesn't work there any more.

Next up was Peter. I was still jonesing for Jeff, but Peter would have to do, despite the fact that there was a RING ON HIS LEFT hand.

Peter doesn't make me laugh. But he plays the best music. Plus, he's a yoga instructor, so he's all about peace and he's all about stretching the spine, keeping the torso long, yada yada. He keeps the lights off while puts us through 45 minutes of pure, sheer hell. But his soft voice makes it like yoga spinning. Or Spinga. Yoging?

This morning he played TWO Rolling Stones song, plus a Talking Heads! I mean really. Where do you find a man like that?!!! I told him I only come for the music, which made him laugh. Afterwards, he actually talked to me. He said "It seems like we have the same taste in music." And like the suave and sophisticated woman you have come to know and love, I stammered, "Um, yeah, we must be the same age." (Which dear God, I hope is true, otherwise I just insulted him.)

Sigh.

That man has taste.

Real World

Well, it's finally happened. The real world has taken over my virtual life.

I had my First Date in, oh, five years, with rower guy last Wednesday, after work, downtown. The short version: We met at a bookstore, it was raining, had coffee, he talked about himself and I didn't. He was very nice, but didn't get my jokes. I consider the date a total success because I learned, after much agonizing and e-mailing of girlfriends, that shoes don't matter. It's true!! So it's not like it was a waste of time or anything.

That's one down, 99 men to go!

Then came:

Saturday a.m.: First day of 1/2 marathon training with the newly formed informal DCRR training group. They were doing three miles. It was raining. I ain't driving 20 miles to run three. I turned over and slept til 8.

Spent the entire morning searching for a restaurant for this group
(R to L: Peter, surrounded by women as usual. K., Bex, moi.)
to celebrate Peter and K's Chicago victories, and Bex's new job and visit to D.C. We ended up at Tallulah: modern. hip. classy. That sums us up nicely. But before Saturday night, there was Saturday Noon. In which your heroine drives to the YMCA where she ... JOINS. I have spent months hemming and hawing about where to swim. They have an outdoor year-round pool at this Y and a special deal where the first month and the membership fee was waived. It was a sign.

Saturday night: Pajama party with Bex. It was wild. We might have had cups of tea. Hard to recall.

Sunday morning: Up at 7 a.m. to get ready for the Marine Corps Marathon. Bex had the brilliant idea to give out candy. So we bought six bags of candy and went from Mile 13 to 15 to 21 to 23 to 24—where the death march began.

(Bex is obviously starving. Those runners look perfectly fine!)

("Alms! Alms for the poor!")

("Take some! It's candy! Really! It's good!")

We both got told "I love you" from different runners. (Can't remember if they were male or female. No matter!) Seriously, I was touched by the runners who, at mile 24, while obviously struggling, took the time to say "No thank you" or just "Thank you." Like we were at the dinner table. I mean really. I remember my first marathon at mile 24 and if I'd had a gun ... well, nevermind. Who knew handing out candy could be so fun?? I also handed out words of wisdom because, well, that's how we roll here at NBTR headquarters. You eat the candy, you get the sermon: "This is your race!" "You own this race!" "Make it count!" and my personal favorite: "It's all mental from here!" to which someone said "All runners are mental?" Well, you said it buster, not I. See more pics here.)

From there, Bex and I walked 26.2 miles to another subway; she headed off to visit some other peeps; I headed off to a lead a hike with my church group, along the C&O Canal near Great Falls, which I was NOT looking forward to, but, which of course, turned out to be fun. After the hike it was yet ANOTHER dinner out at the Irish Inn at Glen Echo. I got home just in time to catch the next installment of Mrs. Pritchard—thank God.

Monday 5:30 a.m.: Day One of Triathlon training! Be very afraid. Cuz I was.

There are so many steps along the way to triathlon training that people forget to tell you. Like:
1. Join pool
2. Get bikini wax

So yeah, I forgot #2. Oh well, turns out it's pitch black dark at 5:30. Oh, also there's
3. Buy swim cap
4. Buy goggles.

So I bought 3 and 4 from the guy on duty (I stopped short of #2).

I headed outside in the 45F moonlit morn, and slid into the pool. And dang, if I didn't remember how to swim! I did 15 x 50. Or 30 x 25 (I'm still learning to speak pool). Took about 1/2 hour. I am blind as a bat so there's
5. Get contact lenses immediately.

That's gonna be some $$$. Contact me (get it??!) if you can donate any used ones.

Monday night: Out to bell-ringing practice (that's after Monday day working. Goes without saying, but I have to keep saying it). Home at 10 p.m.

Tuesday 5:30 a.m.: Run! Four miles! In the dark! Again with the 45F! It felt good. I threw in a few fartleks just for fun. I really love running in the dark. It makes you feel faster.

Work ass off all day.

Go out on yet another worknight to see "I Love You. You're Perfect. Now Change." With a friend.

Start experiencing computer withdrawal. Get home at 10:30, which is akin to midnight.

That brings us FINALLY to

Wednesday 5:30 a.m.: Back to the pool! Same beautiful moonlit morn. Steam rising off the pool. Same laps. I'm practicing bilateral breathing (that's how triathletes say breathe on one side, then on the other), and today I tried to count my strokes. a.j., who unbeknownest to all of us, was some kind of swim champion freak genuis in high school, has been answering my endless stream (get it??) of idiot swimming questions. (aj also sent me free pedals! she rocks!)

For instance, NO ONE TELLS YOU THERE IS MATH INVOLVED IN SWIMMING. NO ONE. Count strokes so you know when to breathe; count strokes to swim one length; count lengths; count laps (btw? laps are TOTALLY different from lengths), count this, count that.

Lose count. Start over.


I LOVE SWIMMING. Love it. I've never had so much energy.

The rest of my week, you ask? Spinning tomorrow morning and then probably running Friday and Saturday. I've got to get my run on! Apparently, after one too many, I inadvertently might have agreed to run this with Susie. I'm sure this is a set up, cuz I just decided to run this the week before! God help me.

Next up: Biking with Jeanne!

I Got Me a Race to Run!

Along with a few other people this weekend, like Juls, Jon, Peter, Old School, and I'm sure many others i'm forgetting. (Oh and THOMAS! GO THOMAS in Loch Ness!)

Good luck to everyone!

My race is a little thing called the Army Ten Miler, but with all the hype around this race—plus the face that I've been training for it since June—you'd think it was the Marine Corps Marathon. Seriously it's a Big Deal in D.C.

So to prepare, I ran four miles on Tuesday (after my spinning instructor FAILED to SHOW at 6:30 a.m. No problem, I only had to GET UP at 5:30 a.m. to get there on TIME. Don't get me started.) Then I went to one spinning class on Thursday.

And—c'est cela!

Except I have also eaten every single thing that wasn't nailed down.

Oh, and worked straight 12-hour days. Oh, and yelled at one too many people. I actually googled this, and yep, irritability and weird eating are symptoms.

So, much of my week was spent apologizing to people for losing my temper. That's always fun.

I'm pretty sure this is what, say, Runner's World prescribes for the week before a race.

Not.

But, turns out that that's not the problem. This is:

I'm working too hard and not getting enough sleep and it makes me mad. So then I eat too much and the wrong things and stay up late reading because damn it, I'm entitled!

And the cycle begins again.

I've never claimed to make any sense, people. I'm gonna ask LBTEPA for a plan. She's the best at plans! It's all about one step at a time.

But, them's the breaks. I AM looking forward being in a race in which so many people I know are running.

So, it should be fun, even though headphones are really, seriously banned. I will have to make do with my 25,999 fellow runners for entertainment. Or I could just sing a few thousand bars of Good King Wenceslas.

Cuz we know it's worked before.

Weekly Roundup

Yes, I'm well aware it's Tuesday. Only Tuesday. How is that possible ... Since it feels like Friday, we're having a weekly roundup now. OK? OK!

1. Ran with 10k group Saturday. Three miles on the mall. In what felt like 70F weather. You'll never guess ... but when you run with a group? You tend to go faster. Who knew?

2. Can a person die from overwork?

3. Ran Monday morning—outside—at 7 a.m. Three more miles!

4. Have taken extremely expensive custom-made inserts out of shoes. Am now using thicker socks to compensate. Fascinating, non?

5. This morning, 6:30 a.m. Am I still dreaming? Or am I in spin class, one of only two people to show? And the other person is a sweaty guy?!? And I'm sitting directly in front of Spin Instructor? Annnnnnnnnnd, I made him laugh today. I said, "Personal training!" I told him my heart rate: 32bpm (10 seconds). He almost ran for the defibrillator. Oh, that's not all. I also asked him if I could take a photo next week, for my "web site." He said: "You want to advertise for us?"
Me: Um, yeah, sure!
SI: Cool!

(This is so not him.)

6. If I run tomorrow morning, this will qualify as a "running streak."

7. It's supposed to snow tomorrow. Morning.

8. Treadmill!

9. Had cupcake at work tonight. It was sitting out on the counter. It was 7 p.m. I got to work at 7: 30 a.m.

10. But made up for it with extremely healthy dinner: corn/roasted red pepper soup, baked (alright! nuked!) sweet potato, and baked mahi mahi. I really love Trader Joe.


That's all I got people. It's been a long week, and it's only Tuesday!

Spin Cycle

I'm still coughing and now sneezing. I can't remember the last time I was sick for this long. I did zero exercise this week. I can't remember the last time that happened either. It's funny—or not—how not exercising for a week sends me into a frenzy. I'm convinced that my running days are over. And it was only last week that I ran in Florida, for Pete's sake. Will there ever come a time when I can trust my body, and myself, enough? Enough that I can take a week off without worrying that it's all over?

Well, I have a lot of history to overcome, I guess. I didn't even start exercising until my 30s and 40s. And my efforts were pretty half-hearted. Then there's forty-some years of being overweight. I guess two years of diligent training doesn't cancel out 48 years. Maybe it will take me another 48 years to feel like I am an athlete. That's ok, because I plan on living to 98 and crossing some finish line somewhere and winning my freakin' age group for once! It could happen.

So, I dragged my snot-filled self to spinning this morning. I've noticed that a lot of people do back-to-back spin classes. And really, that's a good idea. This class is 45 minutes, and it's a killer, no doubt, but honestly, the actual heart-rate-thu-the-roof time is probably more like 30 minutes. So it's like running a 5k. Extremely fast (for me). But it's not long enough. (Not that I'm actually going to double up, or anything.)

Here's an little fantasy I thought I'd share: Whenever I'm in spin class, or yoga, or strength training, I fantasize that when the instructor says, "Great job!," he or she is really talking directly (secretly) to me.

Am I the only one having that little fantasy? Nevermind. A girl's gotta dream.

Another tidbit from spin class: I looked around this morning, and noticed, for the first time, that I was not the fat girl in class anymore! The room is mirrored (why? WHY?) so it's hard not to see yourself, although believe me, I try not to, but today, I thought, dang, I look good! I wanted to take a picture!

Instead, I believe I'll spread some sunshine with this video where George Costanza (aka Jason Alexander) recaps Dick Van Dyke's role:


Now, that just has to make you smile!