The Warrior

I feel like this is one of those blogs that needs something more than words and pictures. I mean, some random fat chick talking about her food/body struggles every week can get pretty boring. So I think I need to jazz things up with a theme, like a weekly mind/body positive theme thing. I think I like that. I'm a pretty creative person. This could get fun.

This week, I wanna celebrate our INNER WARRIOR. Yes, all of us have one. It's that thing inside us that makes us get out of bed when it's gross outside, the thing that gets us going when the going gets tough. Your inner warrior is the badass inside you that makes you keep pushing when all you wanna do is give up.

Truth? Marathon training isn't all fun and games. Don't get me wrong, it can be loads of fun under the right circumstances (and minus total burn-out) This round has been the absolute most challenging--mentally and physically--thing I've done recently. Yes, including training for and completing the half Ironman in Augusta last year. The burn-out has gotten super intense. Things hurt that weren't supposed to hurt. Even the short runs became a challenge. I've cried. I've gotten pissed off. I considered dropping down to the half because things just weren't coming together the way I needed them to. I even completely pulled away from social media. I stopped sharing my workouts to Strava because I wasn't proud of anything I was doing. Which is really stupid if you think about it. The sheer will to keep going is enough to be proud of, but I think you get the point. It's been a freakin' struggle.



With the Little Rock Marathon coming up this weekend, the song of the week HAS to be 80s, and I'm gonna be a whole lot extra and pick "The Warrior." If you've ever heard/seen me cross a finish line, you would understand this. Beyond that, I think it takes tapping into that warrior spirit to conquer these huge goals and finish things that are hard. A warrior heart can conquer an antagonistic brain every time!

Since the big race is fast approaching and I didn't stumble upon this IF thing until it was too late, I've decided not to fast Saturday or Sunday. I'm doing the Totally Awesome challenge again this year (the 5k Saturday and the Marathon Sunday.) Because who goes to Little Rock and doesn't race both days? Pft.

I also decided to start reporting the changes in my body measurements here as well, because isn't that what we all really wanna see? Does IF work? How well does it work? And can I maintain my present level of insanity with it?

After this past weekend, I've come to the conclusion it is entirely possible to do pretty strenuous activities fasted, but I feel like adding in the BCAAs was important. Fatigue wasn't nearly as bad Sunday as it was Saturday, which is kinda backwards if you think about it. After 10 miles in the woods, my legs should've been boat anchors, but they weren't. When I get back from Little Rock, I plan to play around with some things as far as fueling goes. One thing for sure, I'm going to keep using the BCAAs during my workouts.

WEEK ONE STATISTICS:

• Weight: -2lb
• BMI: -.10
• Hips: No previous measurement
• Waist: No previous measurement
• Bust: No previous measurement

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DAY FIVE - Sunday 2/23/20:

I didn't take any pictures today, so there's really nothing fun to share here. Unless you guys want to see a screenshot from Training Peaks... Yeah, I know. No one wants to see that.

This morning has been different than the previous mornings. I wasn't starving when I got out of bed. It wasn't like I ate a ton the night before. I threw a couple of Morningstar Spicy Black Bean burgers in the air fryer for me and the hubby for dinner. I think I ate a handful of White Cheddar Cheetos with it, but that was it. I honestly don't think I heard the first growl until around 8:30 (and I woke up around 4AM. Don't ask. It's stupid to be awake that early when you don't have to be.)

Nothing much to report, other than all my workouts were done fasted. I knew I would be close to home for my run, and in my garage for the rest. That felt safe. I didn't start feeling depleted until the end of the TABATA ride (which significantly kicks my ass on a good day.)

Today's workout:  (all fasted with 1.5 servings of BodyTech Ultimate BCAA)

• DailyBurn 365
• 3 Mile Run
• 35 Minute TABATA Ride

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DAY SIX - Monday 2/24/20:

My body is definitely getting used to this madness. I haven't been starving in the mornings, and those early evenings spent watching TV with my husband doesn't include snacking anymore, which I'm not missing too badly today. Though, that bag of white cheddar Cheetos is calling my name. Seriously, if you haven't tried those things, you're missing out. I can't even eat the orange ones anymore.

Today's workout:

• DailyBurn 365
• 20 Minute Stair Stepper Intervals

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DAY SEVEN - Tuesday 2/25/20:

So this is totally cool. It's been exactly one week since I started this fasting experiment. It all began on a taco Tuesday. And what is today? Oh, yeah! #tacosarelife

Morning seem to be getting a lot easier. At least today they are. My body doesn't seem to be demanding food as soon as my eyes open. So that's a win. Pretty proud of my food choices during the day.

My husband made the BEST shrimp tacos and mango salsa for dinner. It was delicious and I felt completely satisfied... until like an hour later. It took a lot of will power to resist the urge to munch. If only I'd had that willpower when it came to working out today...

Today's workout:

• I'm a total slacker. Don't judge me.

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DAY EIGHT - Wednesday 2/26/20:

I think work from home days are especially hard because all the things I want to eat are right outside the office door, and I know they're there. Like those stupid White Cheddar Cheetos. Seriously, never ever ever buy them. Once you start, you can't stop.

We're stocking up on the carbs and protein in preparation for race weekend. Hubby cooked steak and baked potatoes tonight. It was incredibly filling. I had a handful of vanilla cupcake goldfish right before the fasting window started again. What? I wanted something sweet. #dontjudgeme

Today's workout: 

• DailyBurn 365
• 3 Mile Easy Run

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DAY NINE - Thursday 2/27/20:

Oh. My. God. I'm sooooo hungry. This morning was bad again. I counted down minutes and the clock wasn't going anywhere. My stomach rumbled sooooooooo loudly. Ugh.

I got so mentally invested in my work project that didn't eat until around 10:20. Obviously, my tummy quieted down, but I couldn't tell you when. Probably when I stopped thinking about it. That's the trick, you know?

Maybe I'm losing my mind, but I feel like I'm already seeing changes in my body composition. Keep in mind, I've been doing a lot of HIIT, TABATA, and core work since January 1, but I still feel like fasting is making a positive impact on my weight.

Today's workout: 

• Rest

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DAY TEN - Friday 2/28/20:

So far, so good. Still fasting. I did a little carb loading last night with pizza from Pyros. It was fabulous. Woke up still feeling pretty good. I'm going to break the fast tonight so I can properly fuel for Saturday and Sunday, but I plan on going back to this diet on Monday! I really like how I feel and the results I'm seeing.

I wanted to get this up before hitting the road to head to Little Rock. Kinda like having all my work wrapped up before heading on vacation. I don't like to leaving things unfinished. If all goes well, I'll have a fun story to tell about my 4th marathon! Wish me luck!

The Marathon

Oooohhhh has it really been a month since I've talked to y'all? My bad. Maybe I can make up for it here...

THE MARATHON

You can train and train and train, do everything right, and still have the challenge of your life come race day, and that’s exactly what happened to me on Saturday. I’m trying to be as real about this as possible without being negative. I want everyone to know while this was probably the most god awful, physically demanding and draining things I’ve ever done in my life, not once was it a waste of time or effort, because what I walked away with was just as valuable.

I finished.
I puked. Twice. And I laughed about it because I was now a marathoner.

Finishing was SUPPOSED to be my only goal. I wanted to finish and not have a time in mind so I wasn’t disappointed with any part of the race. It didn’t work out that way. I was disappointed I didn’t finish in five hours. I was disappointed I didn’t run more. I was disappointed I didn’t finish faster. I was disappointed that I didn’t have the time of my life, that I was hateful as hell, and that I walked away saying I would never, ever, ever, in a million years do that distance again. I was disappointed with myself that I made beating someone else’s time my most motivating goal. I was disappointed with myself when people asked me how it went, that I couldn’t say “I had the time of my life and I want to do it again!” None of that was the memories I wanted to take away from the day.

I’m not going to write an entire dissertation on what happened throughout the race, but I’ll give you a breakdown of the key points--as I remember them. First, I love the cause but hate the course. The St. Jude half and full marathons are no joke. The hills in the city are sneaky. You don’t feel them until it’s too late. I’m not even kidding. You think they’re not there… but when you don’t get a break from them for like ten miles, it tends to wear you out. And, somewhere around the ten mile mark is where this course kills me. Every. Time. It happened last year. It happened this year. I’ll continue to be a hero and raise money, but until this Fat Girl can take a little more ass kicking, I’ll do the 10k or something shorter on this course… anything to keep me off North Parkway.

Second, and I think this is what actually killed me more than anything… I’ve been battling sinus problems for months. I went to the doctor, had everything all cleared up, or so it seemed, but a few days before the race things got bad again. More so, the fluid on my ear got worse and so did the popping. The morning of the race, I skipped the Flonase, because I’d gotten a couple nosebleeds and I didn’t want to be pulled off the course because of it, but I kept the Sudafed and the Allegra. The fluid on my ear wasn’t draining. The drugs drying me up gave me cottonmouth. I’m pretty sure I drank way too much. I’m not sure if it was the popping ear or the sloshing water, but one of the two kept making me nauseated. I’d be willing to bet it was my ear. Every time I tried to run and breathe, my ear filled up like it had a balloon in it and I would feel sick. So basically, for the next sixteen miles, I was fighting nausea, a popping ear, and an achy leg (from all the walking that wasn’t supposed to happen.)

DON’T STOP READING YET. ALL THE BAD STUFF ENDED RIGHT THERE. I PROMISE.

VIDEO CREDIT: RICHARD TUTKO

I put that finish line video right in the middle of this post for a reason. While all of that sounded really stinking horrible, and it really freaking was, I still finished, and I finished strong. I adapted and overcame. I preserved. Add to that I had the love and support of my friends and my husband. While I might’ve bitched and moaned for almost 6 hours, what happened at the finish line was totally worth all of it--the months of training, the pains, the missed parties, the money spent on doctors, the eating of all the good for me foods rather than the good for my taste buds foods. It was worth hurling in a blue cup/bag and yelling at people who tried to sit my ass in a wheelchair, because at the end of the day I learned one hell of a lesson… I was never, not even for one second, alone on this journey.

It was really quite overwhelming, from start to finish, the amount of support I had out there on Saturday. From the time I stepped foot onto Union Avenue to right before race start--where I was met with people squealing my name and holding out arms to give me hugs--to the time I crossed the finish line to the same cheers and hugs, I never once felt alone. That’s quite a feeling for someone who struggles with feelings of loneliness from time to time. People were at the start. They were on the course. They were at the finish. They were across state lines in front of computer screens. They were glued to their apps, watching my pace speed and slow. They lost complete days just to keep up with my progress. I can honestly say I’ve never felt so supported, so encouraged and so absolutely the opposite of alone in all my life. And it didn’t stop there. People--including my cousin, her husband and children--were waiting at the top of the stairs when I left the finisher zone. It was probably the most overwhelming thing I’ve ever experienced.

When I finally got home and had a chance to look over the text messages, the timeline posts on Facebook and the comments when I’d posted at mile 10 and 17 about how over it I was, I was so moved that I finally ugly cried. See, I don’t like crying. I especially don’t like crying in front of people. Sometimes though, crying isn’t bad. Sometimes, we’re so overwhelmed with emotion we need to get it out. Funny thing was, it wasn’t my accomplishment that really made me boo-hoo like a baby, but the fact my beginner runner ladies set a goal to run the entire 5k without stopping and they did it. I was more proud of them than I was of myself, and that was totally okay because I had an entire community of people to be proud for me.

There are by far way way way too many names to list individually, but I hope everyone knows how special they made this day for me. If I saw you or spoke to you at all, you were a part of my day and I thank you for that. I would, however, like to take a moment to say a special thank you to the people who came from Mississippi to cheer me on even though none of them are particularly fans of running. They are my friends, no… my family, and they did this for me. I hope I showed them all just how much it meant to me.

I would also like to take a moment to thank the people who spent all that time helping me get through those long training runs--especially Kirsten who let me verbally abuse her for almost six hours. And those who talked me through moments of doubt or gave me sound advice when I maybe wasn’t being rational. They say I could’ve done this on my own, and maybe I could have, but I’ll tell you this journey is a hell of a lot better when you have a tribe.

An epically huge thank you to Julianne Tutko for getting my sweet hubby where he was supposed to be. Between her and her husband Rich, finish line magic happened for me.

Most importantly, I need to thank the love of my life, Joe Cassatta, for being the kind of prince every girl dreams about. (Yes, I’m tearing up right now.) We’ve always been supportive of each other’s crazy endeavors, but I never expected him to go above and beyond the way he has since all of this started back in June. He has gone out of his way to make sure I had carbs on the days I needed them, or light meals on slow days. He helped me prep my lunches, rubbed my butt when it hurt. He sat in doctor’s offices with me, suffered through my moodiness, and lost quality time with me so I could train. He never once complained about any of it. I mean, y’all, he even held my puke cup while I hurled. That’s love right there.

I think it’s safe to say I’m probably the luckiest girl in the world because through this process, I realized I very much have a tribe, and they all came together and kicked major ass just to make my first marathon a memorable experience. They did. In spades.

After...

From the experience I had, one might doubt their training. Maybe. They might go back and look for all the things they did wrong, and I was really close to doing that myself, however I'm not going to. Why? Because I climbed LOTS of stairs after it was over and barely whimpered. I jogged downstairs. I danced and I partied. My legs and my body were conditioned for this. I trained well. I honestly believed what happened Saturday was beyond my control. I honestly believe it was because I was still sick.

From here…

I kept telling Kirsten that I wouldn’t do another marathon, that I wasn’t built for the distance, and yeah… no. I kept saying I wasn’t going to do New Orleans (The Rock-N-Roll Marathon in March that I’m already signed up for because JACKET.) I kept saying I would defer, or maybe just lose the money because marathons are stupid, but after a lengthy text conversation with a woman I’m hoping will become my Tri coach in 2018 (I haven’t had that conversation with y’all yet) I changed my mind about New Orleans. I’m going to do it. I’m going to give the distance another chance. New Orleans is a pretty flat course. It shouldn’t be too cold or too hot, shouldn’t be in the middle of cold and allergy season, so we’ll see. I’m already trained up. Might as well do it while I can, right? And if I still hate it, then now I know. I don’t have a problem trying to get my half marathon time down to 2 hours while working my way up to Triathlons.

Marathon Training - Week 18 Wrap Up

Oct 15th-Oct 21st ~ 41.8 Miles

Day 119 ~ Rock-n-Roll St. Louis Half Marathon (2:15:03 PR)
Day 120 ~ REST
Day 121 ~ Boot Camp and Run (3.1)
Day 122 ~ Run 9.25 Miles
Day 123 ~ 70 Min. Dance
Day 124 ~ REST
Day 125 ~ 12 Mile Long Run

Meal prep this week - Mediterranean Chickpea Quinoa Bowl

Coming off my AMAZING weekend in St. Louis and a five hour drive home left me exhausted. My body needed sleep in its own bed. My belly needed food that was clean and in my normal diet. I needed time to chill and get my routine back. I wanted to take my extra day off catching up at home (i.e. cuddling the kitty and the hubby.) Soooo... I skipped my recovery miles and my Monday dance class. I love that class so much, but my legs were done.

Tuesday I did speed work, which I figured out later might've been a bad idea. Why? Because Wednesday evening, the day after Tuesday evening, I did nine miles that were a little harder than they should've been. Granted, it was a bit warm out and I had worked alllllll freaking day long, but my legs were the problem. They were tired, and they stayed tired, even through two more days of rest. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed Wednesday's run immensely. But tired legs are tired legs. Achy muscles are achy muscles. As a result, I didn't run Thursday. I still did my dance class because movement keeps us from getting stiff and achy, but I took it easy. Friday, I stuffed my face with my favorite pizza and I went to bed early like a good girl.

When I texted my friend Kirsten about Saturday's run, I told her, "It's just twelve miles." Like that was easy or something. Truth? I was simply letting her off the hook for an early morning, but it struck me as funny, and quite insane, that I... the girl who never wanted to be a runner.. actually said twelve miles was easy. What the hell is happening to me?

At 4am on Saturday morning, I still firmly believed that the twelve miles wasn't going to be a thing, that this was easy stuff. I'd done that distance a million times. Well, not a million, but at least like twenty. The run wasn't perfect, but not bad. There were a few points when I got in my head. Something small would hurt or I would get tired, and I went to that I can't do this place. Then I would tell myself to suck it up and stop being a wimp. I passed landmarks that let me know I was getting close to the end. I went up and down hills. I was mentally over running up hill, but still physically able to do it. I probably should've slowed down some, but I didn't. I was fine. I was going to be okay. And I was. At the end of the day, the miles were done and I felt strong. Physically. I'm still trying to figure out the mental training part...

At this point, I'm on the fence about how Saturday is going to go. Just so you know, it'll be the first time I've crossed the twenty mile marker. It's a scary milestone. I mean... two years ago, I was excited to have finished a 10k without dying, and that race left me hurting so damn bad I took about six weeks off from running. Three years ago, no one would've ever convinced me I could run anything. I was doing good to walk two miles on a treadmill in under an hour. Today, I'm on the verge of becoming a bad ass. The body really is capable of amazing things.

"Ambition is the path to success. Persistence is the vehicle you arrive in."

~ Bill Bradley

Marathon Training - Week 16 Wrap Up

Oct 1st-Oct 7th ~ 30.7 Miles

Day 105 ~ Recovery Miles (4)
Day 106 ~ Dance
Day 107 ~ Boot Camp
Day 108 ~ Run (6.4)
Day 109 ~ Dance & Run (4.1)
Day 110 ~ REST
Day 111 ~ Long Run (16)

MEAL PREP THIS WEEK - Chickpea, Carrot, and Dill Salad (Yummy!)

My brain is sooooo not online. I'm looking at the pictures from last week and it was a pretty damn good collection of seven days, if I say so myself. It was the first time I've broken 30 miles in a week. I'm not exhausted. My body doesn't hurt. All good signs.

I had family in town and she let me drag her to the gym with me (that's her in day 106.) She didn't die... and doesn't hate me. Life is good. I turned her on to Cari's dance class... which is on YouTube as FitnessFiveO. I provided the link to get you there.You can thank me later.

The best feeling yet came after the sixteen miles on Saturday. We'd just finished running, had walked it off/stretched it out. I had to take Kirsten back to her car. We did the same as last time. I let her sleep in and picked her up at mile 4. Anyway, once we finished, we were back in the car and Missy Elliot was playing. It was "Let Me Work It"--a favorite to run to. I was dancing before I got in the car, then dancing in my seat as we pulled away. She said to me, "you're on top of the world right now, aren't you?"

First instinct... grin like a loon. 

Yes, I was on top of the world. 

I had a major runner's high.

Runner's High: a feeling of euphoria that is experienced by some individuals engaged in strenuous running and that is held to be associated with the release of endorphins by the brain.

~ Merriam Webster

Yes, I've felt that feeling lots of times. Every time I conquered a new goal or achieved something I didn't think was possible, I got this all over excited feeling that made me want to cheer and dance and jump and scream... and sometimes run a little more. This time was different. It was a runner's high, mixed with realization, mixed with achievement, mixed with I CANNOT BE STOPPED!!!! I ran sixteen freaking miles... for the second time in my life. But this time, I wasn't murderous by the end of the fourteenth mile. I wasn't silently screaming for my friend to shut up. She knows I love her. I wasn't miserable at the end of my run. I wanted to celebrate!!!

So now is the time when I look at that last sixteen mile run and I do the mental hopscotch, bouncing back and forth from one emotion to the next. I get in my mood where I'm tell myself if I can do sixteen miles, I can do twenty-six-point-two. Then, alternatively, I tell myself that I didn't want to do anymore when I got to the end of the run Saturday. I was done. How the hell am I going to add ten more miles to that? Then I go back to well, I wasn't mentally prepared for more. I was mentally prepared for sixteen. 

Truth? I think I'm prepared to go twenty-plus miles. I know at least one of those long runs is going to be torture. I'm okay with that. I think I'm a lot stronger than a couple of numbers on a device. I know that I've committed to this and failure isn't an option. I have committed to something remarkable and I honest to gods plan to see it through. 

"What is the point of being alive if you don't at least try to do something remarkable"

~ John Green

I Became Overweight Today... and I'm Thrilled About It!!!

I know you're probably thinking what is this crazy lady talking about. Who is happy about being overweight? Well... give me a moment to explain. I'm going to start with the word obese. It's not a very pretty sounding word, is it? In fact, Google's dictionary gives a grim and unappealing definition:

Gross. Bloated. Bulky. Paunchy. Corpulent?!?! Doesn't sound too pretty, huh?

**This isn't to fat shame or body shame anyone. I know people get super sensitive about words these days. I'm obviously sensitive about the word obese, otherwise we wouldn't be here right now. Right? Personally, I think if you're happy and in love with yourself, that's all that really matters in the end. I'm not the person who is happy and in love with myself because I know what I'm capable of and obesity isn't it. Not for me.**

Now that the disclaimer is out of the way...

When I started with my Fitbit on February 7th, 2014, I weighed 250 pounds. And that wasn't even the heaviest I'd ever been, but it was the most humiliating and damaging to my self esteem because I'd let myself get that way after working so hard to get the weight off. I'd lost 90 pounds in 9 months, only to have it come back with a vengeance after I'd gotten laid off from my previous job. I'd spent 2-3 months sitting on my butt, drinking coffee and eating comfort food because I was scared and sad. I was going to lose my house. I was up to my eyeballs in credit card debt because the state of Mississippi maxed out their unemployment at $217 a week back then and we still had to make ends meet while I was looking for a job. IT jobs weren't aplenty in that area.

I moved back to Memphis in 2012, and because of my living situation, I was eating a lot of fast food. I wasn't making good food choices and I damn sure wasn't exercising. I had books to finish writing, things I'd started when I was still unemployed. I had excuses... sooooo many excuses not to take care of myself.

In 2013, we were finally back on our feet enough to get our own place again, and every single morning I drove past an Anytime Fitness. It kept calling to me. "Allison, get off your fat ass and get in here. You know you're not happy." I wasn't. It took awhile, but eventually I joined. I bought a Fitbit because the company I work for has fitness incentives, not the least to mention was a fat deduction to the cost of my insurance. So basically, my gym membership paid for itself because of the discount on my insurance... because I went to the gym. Okay. Cool. I'm in. Lot's of other fitnessy things followed, but that makes this story SUPER long. Basically, I started walking for an hour a day, then I added dance twice a week, then came running, then came boot camp and cycling and... yeah, I've lost my mind.

When I bought my Fitbit in 2014, I was 250 pounds with a BMI of 41.6.

By this chart's logic, I was very severely obese.

What? No? You gotta be kidding me. I didn't look very severely obese. I mean... those are the people who can't get out of bed, right? Apparently not, and I HATE this chart and that word so much. Because had I seen this chart at that point in my life, I might've become the person who couldn't get out of bed, who couldn't tie their own shoes, who couldn't take care of themselves on the most basic level. I could've easily become so depressed it got worse. But I didn't...

This is where I am today.

I'm not sharing this to brag, though I will admit I'm going to celebrate the hell out of this. Might even get the cake my husband and I were craving so badly last night. I'm sharing this because the very real truth of weight loss and transformation is it doesn't happen overnight. It happens over hours, days, months, and years of dedication. It's not easy, but in the end it's rewarding. 

The expectation is always to see pounds fall off fast, and they will, but don't get discouraged when they stop falling off, when your body gets used to the new things you're doing and stops responding the way it had been. It'll happen. It's called a plateau and it sucks. In fact, when I plateaued, I got so discouraged I told my husband, "I might as well eat all the things since the weight isn't changing." I didn't stop running or working out, but I totally ate ALL THE THINGS I could get my hands on. The harder I trained the more I wanted to eat, and that's still a thing. I come in from working out soooooooo hungry and I want everything I'm not supposed to eat. The longer the miles get, the more I want to stuff all the sweet carbs in my face. Every Saturday is cheat day. I get one. I make it worth it. Prepping my lunches has helped get my weight loss going again. All I can do is stick with it and hope the pounds keep coming off. In the meantime, I'm perfectly content being overweight.  

Marathon Training - Week 12 Wrap Up

Sept 3rd-Sept 9th ~ 24.4 Miles

Day 79 ~ Recovery Run (3.1)
Day 80 ~ REST
Day 81 ~ Boot Camp & Run (3.1)
Day 82 ~ Run (6)
Day 83 ~ Dance & Run (3)
Day 84 ~ REST (Carb up!)
Day 85 ~ Long Run (9.1)

(I just realized my numbers are completely off this week. Sorry, y'all. I can only blame vacation brain.)

FOOD PREP MEAL -  None this week. We got back in town from camping on Monday and I took the day off Tuesday so we spoiled ourselves with Cheesecake Factory. Don't judge me. ;-)

I started this post with a rundown of all the stuff I'd done all week and blah, blah, blah about how it went and how I felt. Then, after pouring two paragraphs onto the page, I decided that wasn't the story I wanted to tell this week because something much bigger happened, something I needed, something that really reminded me that I'm a lot harder on myself than I should be. I don't know why, but I am. I keep trying to prove to everyone else I'm a good person, when really the only person who needs to know that is me. Well, Saturday, three very special ladies, someone calling me a "true success story," and an amazing co-coach made me really see the things I needed to see. And then my husband said, "See, I've been telling you this stuff the whole time." #blesshim

Let me back up, because this has the potential to be a really good story and I'll try to condense it as much as I can...

In 2015, a friend told me to come join this women's run/walk program with her. She wanted me to be a beginner runner. Ummmm... no. I didn't want any part of it. I was fine dancing two nights a week and WALKING on my treadmill for an hour every morning. I was losing weight and life was good. My friend, she persisted. She asked me two or three more times, and finally I gave in. I hated everything about it. It was too hot outside. I couldn't breathe. My stomach always hurt. Who the hell in their right mind ran... for the fun of it? I mean I liked walking my 5Ks just fine. I didn't need that to change. Obviously, it changed. I'm a sucker for good peer pressure.

After eight weeks of I hate this crap, we finally got to the morning of the graduation 5K. I was freaking pumped. Soooooo excited to be out there. I'd worked my butt off and now it was over. I went out hard and fast, and by the halfway point I hated life. Past the second mile I thought this would never end and I would die wayyyyyyy before the next mile marker. Then I came roaring across the finish line and I couldn't wait to do it again, but next time I wanted to be faster. That's when I knew the bug had really bitten. I freaking LOVED running.

In 2016 and 2017, I went back as a coach for the beginner runners because I wanted to pass on what I'd gained from the experience. It was important for these ladies to know it wasn't going to be easy, but it would damn sure be worth it. They needed to know it got easier if you did things right and trusted the process. I wanted them to learn from the mistakes I'd made.

This year was an exceptional year for me personally with this program. I honestly thought I was sort of useless as a coach because I'm super shy if I'm not familiar with you. I don't talk to strangers. I'm very much a back of the class kind of girl. I'd hoped that coaching would get me out of that, but thus far it hadn't. Then I met Bobbie and Shirley...

These ladies were tough and committed, and they pushed through the training and set goals for themselves, and week after week I watched them become stronger runners. They were so grateful to me for spending my time with them when I could've been doing something else--their words, not mine. Truth? I enjoyed every second of it. It didn't matter how fast or how slow we were going. I was doing exactly what I'd come back to the beginner runner program to do. I was helping someone love running the way I did. Both ladies set a 40 minute goal time. Both ladies finished right around 38 minutes. I couldn't have been more proud of them.

Then there was a third lady who I'd seen but hadn't really spoken to. Catherine was with Bobbie and Shirley, and a few other ladies when we started the race Saturday morning. Somewhere before mile two I heard someone call my name. It was Catherine. She said, "please don't leave me out here alone." I told her that I was going to pace the ladies like I promised, but I would come back for her. I kept watching for her, making sure she was close by. She was. Then she wasn't.

Well, luckily, Terri Clarke--another fine member of our wonderful running community--was also there and between her and Marley--another lady runner--they were able to pace everyone else to the finish line while I went to get Catherine. She wasn't that far behind. Close enough if I'd had my glasses on I would've seen her. The race wasn't easy for her, and though she wanted to give up, she didn't. And when she crossed that finish line, she did it in beast mode. She ran hard and fast with me yelling beside her to "run, girl! Run!"Again, I found myself incredibly proud of what these women were doing for themselves. Sappy, ain't it? Catherine cried and hugged and cried and hugged, and it was probably the sweetest thing I'd been a part of all day... until Bobbie handed me a thank you note that made my eyeballs leak. Then Julianne--you guys have seen her name a lot--gave me a high five and said "Good job, Coach" when I told her that Bobbie and Shirley made their goal.

There was a point to this, I promise. While people say "I hate running" or "running sucks," I can't help but disagree. I know it's a matter of perspective, but the perspective it gave me was seeing that even though I'm no one important, I can inspire. I can empower. I'm not rich and famous, but I too can be looked up to simply because of how I chose to treat other people. Am I perfect? Not by a long shot. Will I ever be perfect? Not even close. Can I see perfection in myself? Well, I'm certainly trying. I'm hoping at the end of this journey, when I cross the finish line after 26.2 miles and all these weeks of training, my eyes and heart will be more open to the possibility of me being this awesome, inspiring person everyone else sees.

"Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless." -Mother Teresa

Marathon Training - Week 11 Wrap Up

Aug 27th-Sept 2nd ~ 25.8 Miles

Day 72 ~ Recovery Run (3.4)
Day 73 ~ WRWM Coaching (3 miles)
Day 74 ~ Boot Camp
Day 75 ~ Base Miles (6.18)
Day 76 ~ Walked 3 miles (after packing the car)
Day 77 ~ Set up camp and ate camp food, then did planks by the river... on my rest day.
Day 78 ~ Long Run (Traded 14 pavement miles for 10.34 gravelly, hilly miles.)

FOOD PREP MEAL -  Chipotle Chicken Quinoa Burrito Bowl

Week eleven already seems so far away, that I had to go back and look at the pictures to remember everything I was feeling/enduring/or fighting to push through the previous week. I'm telling you, three days of quiet time on the river was everything the doctor ordered. Okay, maybe I could've done without the rum and the Fireball, but this girl had needs, and getting sloppy ass drunk was one of them. I'm such a lightweight, however, sloppy ass drunk is one rum and diet coke and a single shot of Fireball. Don't hate me because I'm a cheap date. LOL

It's pretty safe to say that each run felt pretty good. I think the only day I absolutely didn't want to do anything was Thursday, and that had everything to do with having to pack up the car and nothing at all to do with exhaustion from training. So massive bonus there. Boot camp Tuesday morning was even awesome. I had slight pain over my left knee, but Dr. Wonderful took care of that for me.

My long run wasn't 14 miles like it should've been. Mentally, I was there. I was ready to do it. I told myself that just because I wasn't at home didn't mean I couldn't do those miles. That was before I realized that getting out of camp was ALLLLLLL up hill, and I mean up long, tall, gravelly hills. So in reality, for the effort, I might've done 14 miles. I will say that it was a fun and somewhat frightening adventure. My love of horror movies made the adventure better than the run. I'm woman enough to admit that. There are more pictures on my Facebook and Instagram.

The Sunday recovery miles have yet to disappoint. I know its coming. I know that after running 16, 18 or 20 miles on Saturday there will be a Sunday when the thought of pounding pavement will reduce me to tears. Right now, I plan to enjoy the comfortable Sundays, while doing the cross-training needed to make this whole experience a lot less painful.

The best part of the week, however, wasn't the training or eating the bad foods, but the fact that my LARGE InkNBurn singlets finally fit me in a way that I'm not embarrassed to wear. I started out in an 2XLarge, so this is a huge deal for me.

UPDATE FROM THE PREVIOUS POST....

I'm not one who typically likes to wallow in my self-pity. After an inspiring email from my best friend in the entire world, you guys know her as Pookie, I decided to stop making myself more miserable than I needed to be. Or at least try to. To start that process, I reached out to a running buddy who nearly made me puke all over my Mizunos last time I ran with her. In her defense, she was trying to get me to finish a 5k in 28 minutes, in the middle of summer and on a full stomach. We figured out real fast the three things don't constitute a working combination for me.

Anyway, Kirsten is funny as hell, crazy, and loves to talk, and from what I hear can keep me on pace pretty damn good. She has agreed to do the long runs with me, and since she's all like "I can do a 50k for breakfast" I figured she was just insane enough to get up before the sun and run lots of stupid miles with me. Sometimes training is also about regrouping and finding what's going to work for you. Just because things didn't start the way they were supposed to doesn't mean they can't finish with a stellar ending. In December, I expect to have my stellar ending. To quote Michael Jordan...

"You must expect great things of yourself before you can do them."

Marathon Training - Week 8 Wrap Up

Aug 6th-Aug 12th ~ 19.8 Miles

Day 51 ~ Recovery Miles, 22 Mile Cycle
Day 52 ~ Rest
Day 53 ~ 50min Bootcamp, Therapy Run
Day 54 ~ Painful Run
Day 55 ~ BENCHED (11 Min HIIT)
Day 56 ~ Rest (Or visit a chiropractor)
Day 57 ~ Long Run (10 miles)


Not every chapter of our lives will be a good one. Some days we'll see sunshine and rainbows for as far and wide as the eye can see. Some days, no matter how hard we search, we can't see past the grey skies. That was pretty much my week. And I just realized that my post last week started out much the same way. I guess it's safe to say I'm in a funk. 

It's no coincidence that you don't see a bunch of pictures of me drenched with sweat and smiling from ear to ear. I just didn't have it in me this week. I wanted to put on my big toothy grin and get through the pictures, simply because it seems to be more inspiring when people see you having fun. But that's not real. Don't mistakenly think I'm saying running isn't fun. It is. Besides my husband, it's probably one of the best things that's happened to me. It's just hard to explain and I'm trying hard not to sugarcoat anything. Not even the mental aspect of this journey.  My first promise to myself was to do this blog for me. So when I go back and relive this journey--for whatever reason I need to--I'll have an accurate account of everything. So in the spirit of being real, this week sucked for me, both mentally and physically.

So... about that chiropractor. 

My therapy run on Tuesday did the exact opposite of what it was supposed to do. I was supposed to hit the pavement and clear my head after I let my emotional state keep me locked in the house Monday evening. As soon as I started running I knew it wasn't going to be good. By the time I got to the 1.5 mile mark, my entire left leg hurt. I'm talking from the hip to the bottom of my foot. Something wasn't right. I'd hurt myself. I wasn't going to be able to do the full marathon. I'd screwed up. I'd over-trained. I didn't do something right. I thought I was doing everything right. What. The. F$%@!?!?!

By the time I got back to the house, all I wanted to do was crawl in bed and cry.

I soaked and iced and wore compression, and I knew that Wednesday night I could run with the beginner ladies and go super, super easy, and those ladies always cheer me up. I needed all of the above, but I swore if I felt the least little bit of pain I would stop. So I went out Wednesday evening and everything felt okay enough. I didn't run hard. I finished 3.25 miles and life was good. 

Come Thursday my left leg hurt all over, just walking wasn't comfortable, not to mention the popping that has been coming and going for awhile was LOUD. I was scared again. Scared enough I desperately started searching for an orthopedic doctor. Every time I hit the wall of receptionists and found myself trapped at another road block, I nearly lost it. I was on the verge of panicking while my dreams of success where slipping out of my hands. (Yes, I really am this dramatic.)

Of course, like most people in the modern world of too much information sharing, I took to Facebook looking for recommendations from other runners. Very specifically, I needed a doctor who I could get a damn appointment with and someone who wasn't going to tell me I couldn't workout or run, because neither of those were an option. My friends suggested this chiropractor in Lakeland, TN--Dr. Aaron, they called him. Or Dr. Wonderful according to my friend's kid. Admittedly, when I left his office on Friday, I agreed with her. I can't remember everything he said, but I know he said I have some IT band issues and some inflammation of my Anterior Tibialis. All I know is he was saying all these Latin words while bringing the pain down on my leg. My husband paid attention to the words. I drooled all over the chair.

At the end of my session with Dr. Wonderful, I was cleared to run my ten miles on Saturday, with the caveat that if starts to hurt, pull back. I honest to God listened. I took it super easy the first three miles. When I was sufficiently warmed up, I picked up the pace for the next few miles. The hills in Germantown aren't friendly. We fought. I'll say I won more than I lost. At mile 9 I was feeling phenomenal. The only thing that would've made the run better was less humidity. And I felt every bit of that 100% humidity between mile 9 and mile 10, in the depths of the Greenway's lush green jungle like atmosphere--breathing was almost impossible, but at the end of the day, I enjoyed every single mile.

Next week, we'll see what the orthopedic doctor says about my leg...

"A champion is not made when he succeeds; a champion is made when you look back at the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months, he has spent preparing." ~ Eliud Kipchoge

Marathon Training - Week 7 Wrap Up

July 30th-Aug 5th ~ 19.7 Miles

Day 44 ~ 5k Recovery Miles
Day 45 ~ Sick
Day 46 ~ 50min Bootcamp
Day 47 ~ 5k Base Miles (Bad Day)
Day 48 ~ Base Miles (dreadmill), Dance
Day 49 ~ Rest (Carb up, Grocery shopping, Chill with the hubs)
Day 50 ~ Long Run (9 miles)


Not every week or every workout will be paved with rose petals and showered in rainbows. Sometimes, life gets in the way. Sometimes, emotions get the better of us. This week was like that for me. Actually, let me re-phrase. Sunday was amazing. I had awesome splits. The weather was perfect. I had the best time running the 5k loop around Cancer Survivors Park. I volunteered for MRTC (Memphis Runner Track Club.) Life was good and I felt great about myself. Then Monday happened. Stupid Monday. 

Mother Nature kicked my ass Monday morning. I wasn't even trying to fight her on that one. But it was a really sucky start to the week. It seems like if I have no motivation on Monday, the rest of the week ends up shot too. So we chalked Monday up to being a total bust. I told myself I'd work through it and everything would be okay. I wasn't going to let negative Allison get in my way. 

Tuesday I crawled my hind parts out of bed and went to the gym. Boot camp felt pretty good. I had a good feeling that the rest of the week would get progressively better. I went to work, prepared to do the damn thing and turn the week around, then I got a call from my dad. My mom was in the hospital and it sounded serious. The doctors never seem to be any help when you're trying to find out what the hell is going on. It was frustrating. I didn't have anything to tell the family, nothing to tell work, and I didn't want to leave until I knew what was going on, or at least until it looked like she was feeling better. I spent most of Tuesday at the hospital with her, went back after work Tuesday night. Still didn't know much and had a really hard time sleeping because of it.

Wednesday came and I couldn't roll my butt out of bed no matter how badly I wanted to. All day long I beat myself up for not rising and shining and hitting the pavement like a good little runner, but I just couldn't do it. Later that night, I made a promise to myself that I was going to take all that bad energy out to the trail (asphalt trail) and leave it there. I was supposed to run five miles, but I didn't. Instead, I ran three incredibly hard and possibly too fast miles, and I left every bit of the icky on the pavement. I felt like a million dollars after.

The rest of the week got better. Thursday, I did five miles on the treadmill watching The Barkley Marathons on Netflix (by the way... I will NEVER reach that level of insane. I'm putting this in writing... NEVER. EVER. EVER. Watch the documentary and you'll get it.) After the miles, I spent seventy minutes in my most favorite class of all time--Dance Fusion at Germantown Athletic Club with Cari. Her dance class is one of the best things to ever happen to me (from a fitness perspective.) She honest to gods makes working out sooooo much fun. I was so exhausted when it was over, I slept like a baby. Thankfully, Friday was a rest day.

As always, the end the week ended on Saturday with a nine mile long run--which is still not long for me. I won't start getting worried until we're above fifteen miles. The great thing was four miles were long gone before I started feeling it at all. The long, gradual hills from downtown to midtown were a pain in my glutes. But I got it done. I pretty much slept all day after. My body needed it. Badly. And to make things better, by the end of the week we knew what was going on with my mother and she was on her way to recovering. 

ALSO...
In my search for perfect fuel, I came across two new to me products that I foresee becoming staples in my running gear. 

The first was the Cinnamon Waffles from Honey Stinger. I had one before my two long runs to knock off the grumbling belly and give me a little extra boost in the begging. Oh. My. Gods. Those things are freaking delicious. I think I might have to carry them for my actual run. Most of these Gu/Jellys/Gatorade things have a weird taste to me. I mean, I pretty much know I'm eating pure sugar, but this was liking siting down with a cinnamon waffle. Sooooooo yummy! (Click on the picture for more info)

The second was Tailwind Endurance Fuel. I tried the Tropical Buzz first, and again, it was absolutely delicious. I liked this because it didn't make my water fizzy and salty. It added a wonderful fruity taste without color, and to make it even better it's all natural and all organic. 
(Again, click the picture for more info)

Marathon Training - Week 6 Wrap Up

July 23rd-29th ~ 17.1 Miles

Day 37 ~ Rest
Day 38 ~ Women Run/Walk Memphis coaching! 1.6 miles
Day 39 ~ 50min Bootcamp
Day 40 ~ HIIT, Base Miles, 2.4 extra "run buddy" miles (I'll explain this later.)
Day 41 ~ HIIT, Base Miles (dreadmill), Dance
Day 42 ~ HIIT, Rest (Carb up, be silly, chill)
Day 43 ~ HIIT, Long Run (8 miles), Swim

So, I've re-written this post like three times already. I was going to document my entire week and all my thoughts and feelings, but that's boring. I mean, who wants to read the same ol', same ol' week after week? The daily is on Instagram anyway. No sense in rehashing old news, right? Instead, I think I want to share with you guys a little gem of a documentary I found on Netflix this week. It's called From Fat to Finish Line (you can click on the title to see the IMDB listing.)

"The journey of 12 people who share the common bond of losing 100 pounds on average and then embarking on one of the biggest challenges of their lives - the 200 mile mega distance Ragnar Relay Race."

I found this movie because Thursday morning I couldn't make myself get out of bed. The alarm went off at 4am, and I just couldn't do it. The cat kept nuzzling my cheek and purring in my ear, and I just couldn't bring myself to leave the bed. But all wasn't lost. I planned to go to dance class at Germantown Athletic Club that evening, so I told myself I'd get the miles done on the treadmill. I hate the treadmill. Hate. It. So I needed a movie or something on my iPad to keep me occupied for about forty-five minutes while I ran those four miserable miles, otherwise I knew I wouldn't finish. I strolled over to the "available for download" section and went shopping. This is the one I picked... a movie about running, to watch while I was running. Obsessed much?

Immediately, I related to every single person in this documentary. They talked about lifelong weight struggles, one in particular who lost and gained and lost and gained. I know that struggle all too well. Then the woman who didn't have the confidence, the one who felt like she looked ridiculous. I related to the one who got in her own head and convinced herself she couldn't do it. I related to the sick feeling. Every bit of it, even the part where their team-mates stayed by them to pull them through bad runs, and especially the part where they all became a family.

I found a hell of a lot of inspiration in this movie, and it came at a time when I was honest to gods, no kidding, wondering what I was thinking when I signed up to do the marathon. Sure, I make jokes that it's going to kill me, but by Wednesday, I honestly believed I wasn't going to make it all the way to 26.2 miles.

Those four treadmill miles flew by and I felt absolutely amazing. I topped the day off with sixty minutes of dance fusion--which has always been my favorite part of the gym.

By the end of the week, most of my confidence in my ability to see this journey through to the end was coming back. I'll give partial thanks to the people who shared their stories through the documentary, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention my local running community. I mean... they don't exactly let you give up on yourself. And how can you not love people who will get out at 6am on a Saturday morning to sit on the side of the road and wait to hand you water?

Moral of the story, find inspiration however you have to find it. It's okay to give up for a second, even a minute or a day, but don't give up for good. Fall off the horse, but do your best to get right back on it. I've done a lot of giving up, but like one of the women in the movie said, the difference this time was she made a lifestyle change BECAUSE she found running and fell in love.

Marathon Training - Week 5 Wrap Up

July 16th-22nd ~ 18.5 Miles

Day 30 ~ Rest (Or, you know... drive like 400 miles)
Day 31 ~ Base Miles, Swim
Day 32 ~ Base Miles, Swim
Day 33 ~ Rest (Or, you know, drive like 400 miles again and then sleep all day.)
Day 34 ~ Base Miles
Day 35 ~ Cycle (17 Miles)
Day 36 ~ Long Run (7 miles)


This was a special week in my little world and a LOT of slacking off was to be had. Coaches and trainers always harp on cross-training for good reason. It makes running sooooo much easier. So when they say do it, you should do it. I promise. It's not a "nice to have." It's a "you'll make yourself miserable without it." So, I guess the word of the week is CROSS-TRAINING.

Sunday (day 30), I spent recovering from my best friend in the entire world's wedding. We drank a lot. We stayed up late. It was awesome. I got to see sooooo many faces I'd been missing for a really long time. While I beat myself up a little for not doing some sort of training on Sunday, I needed the day off. My body was done.

Monday and Tuesday was spent in Biloxi, rising and shining before the sun. The salty air was welcome to my sinuses. Humidity made everything sticky, but it wasn't the same miserable soupy air I'm used to in Memphis. It was fresh and crisp, and somewhat easy to breathe. It might've been psychosomatic, but whatever works, right?

There were some questionable characters hanging out on the pier (which I will share pictures of because they're super creepy) and I ran for my life out of fear. #speedwork #nailedit. I tried not to get concerned or be scared at all. I tried not to look at these men as vagrants but rather gypsies still trying to find a place to call home, but I grew up in a city where erring on the side of caution saved your life more than not. So that's what I did. I ran until it burned my insides. And I'm still alive.

I went straight to the pool almost immediately after my run on both days. I sincerely love to swim. Ready to have a pool again.

We rolled back into Memphis around 1am on Wednesday morning, and I pretty much spent the entire day cuddling with El Gato, the demon kitty until the following day. Thursday I did my base miles, but again, was too exhausted to go to dance class. I swear, there wasn't enough sleep in the world to recover from my Biloxi vacation.

Friday should've been a rest day, but I'd had enough lying around the house. I went out to my garage and I swear my bike said "ride me." It has a petite, sort of high-pitched voice that's really painful when it whines. Yes, I just anthropomorphized the shit out metal and two wheels, but if you'd been there you would understand. It's teal and gray, and very bright in the dark. It said "Allison, I need you..." and I said okay. Seventeen miles later and I was ready to take a nap.

I went into Saturday telling myself I should've rested, that the body needs a good break, and apparently, the two I gave mine wasn't enough. Or maybe it was the 100+ real feel temperature and ridiculous humidity. I don't know. I just knew running wasn't going well and I ended up with my worst average pace since I summer last year. I'm not beating myself up over this... too much. It was my fault I did so poorly and all I can do is make a promise to myself that I'll trust the process and follow the rules because the people who made them know much more about this stuff than I do. Best thing about Saturday... this crazy chick Yella. At the end of those miserable miles, she was there with a smile on her face, waving and yelling at me "but you didn't die!" How can you not laugh? Seriously.

At the end of the week, I came to the conclusion that I REALLY need to pay better attention to what I eat and any reason not to take at least 10 minutes out of my day to cross-train is just excuses. Excuses won't get me over that finish line in December.