The real reason I run is so I can eat bacon. It's true, I'll do anything for pork products (okay, not anything, but things most people wouldn't do, like run a marathon). I've been struggling with weight more or less since Junior High, though not on an extreme scale. Right now, I'd like to lose the fifteen pounds I put on pretty much the moment I was (mis)diagnosed with a stress fracture at the end of last summer. Wishing and hoping haven't been doing the trick, so I decided to go back to the tried and true method of counting calories.
The first time I did this was back in 2006 the first (and only unless you count my final weeks of pregnancy) time I hit 200 pounds. I used a site called MyFoodDiary.com and lost 16 lbs just by paying attention to what I was putting in my mouth. MyFoodDiary was great for giving feedback on the quality of calories I was consuming. The first time I realized that most yogurt is actually sugar disguised as a health food was because MyFoodDiary gave me a frowny face. It was also the first time I realized exactly how out of control the sodium content is in most processed foods. It doesn't hurt that this was also around the same time that I read Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan, a food genius whose manifesto, "Eat food, not too much, mostly plants" has been life changing. The information I gleaned from those books and tracking my calories has served me well, not just in forever weaning me from frozen pizza, but also in watching my sugar and sodium intake, and more importantly, guiding my decisions about my daughter's diet.
This time around, after increasing my running back up to pre-injury levels but still holding fast to my extra pounds like a looter to a TV set, I decided to go back to counting calories to see if that was the problem (as opposed to hormones or a vengeful God). Though I am using a different site (LoseIt.com) which was recommended by a friend and happens to be FREE, it has basically pointed out the same thing: I have let crap creep back into my diet for the sake of convenience. I was also eating as much on my running days as on my rest days, which is why I was unable to shed the pounds. In addition, through the use of a heart rate monitor, I have discovered that I burn far fewer calories than I thought I was while running. The 100 calories per mile rule-of-thumb does not apply to me, most likely because I don't have a lot of muscle mass. On a recent 5.2 mile run, I burned 402 calories, about 120 fewer calories than I would have previously estimated. That translates into four squares of chocolate, which I would have eaten in ignorant bliss using the standard formula, resulting in a pound of weight gain over the course of a month if I were to do that every day.
One tricky thing about counting calories is that it can have a deleterious effect if you aren't careful because it is so much easier to record the calories conveniently displayed on the back of a package than it is to figure out how many calories are in your homemade pasta sauce and fresh salad. Nearly all calorie-counting sites (certainly the ones I have used) allow you to build recipes to help this process, but it is still far more time consuming than just searching a list of brand-name items. The rub of course is that homemade is so much better for you health-wise than most packaged products. It's nearly impossible to accurately count calories at a restaurant, but hey, maybe it's a good time to go on a money diet too.
The other thing I have done to lose weight is add weight training to my fitness regimen. I joined a group class at Twist, which has a weight lifting component and also use kettle bells for a short routine I can do at home. Muscle burns more calories than fat, so adding muscle is a natural way to lose weight. Plus, I feel pretty bitchin' when I swing that kettle bell around, which almost cancels out the anxiety I feel about the possibility that one of these days it will slip and smash through the sliding glass door.
So far I have lost four pounds even with the depressive eating binge I went on when I thought I had gained back the first two pounds I lost because I forgot to account for my menstrual cycle. It's probably not enough to give me a good shot at a PR for the Eugene marathon I am running on Sunday (fat = slow) but it's enough to get me back into my favorite jeans, and for that (and for bacon) I will stick with the program.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
I Heart Trail Races!
This past weekend, my husband and I ran the Spokane River Run 25k. We hadn't planned to run this race, but I accidentally signed up for both Bloomsday (a 12k in Spokane) and the Eugene Marathon, which turned out to be on the same day (a fact I probably could have figured out in a 5 second Google search). Anyway, after I figured out my ridiculous error, I went searching for another race we could do in Spokane because I really did want to make a trip over there to see my family. The River Run was the big winner, based on date and course route (no double loops!).
It had been raining for nearly two months straight in Portland, so the thing I was most looking forward to about the trip was some sunshine and I was not disappointed; race day dawned sunny and beautiful. This was of course, terrific, but it did put me in a quandary about what to wear: a short-sleeved shirt with arm sleeves or a long-sleeved, mid-weight, quarterzip? Should I add a tank top to layer under either option? I didn't want to be cold, but I really didn't want to overheat. I chose the tank and the quarterzip, but ended up taking off the tank top when we got there and it was already starting to warm up. Of course, I spent much of the race blessing and cursing my choice: Brrrrr, it sure is chilly standing here (bless) wow, I'm really starting to warm up now that I'm running (curse) boy, it's cold up here on the ridge (bless) cripes, this sun is hot (curse). In the end, it turned out to be exactly the right choice--I never did get too hot or too cold.
Looking at the elevation map didn't really give me too much information about the course. I figured there would be hills, and sure enough, there were. I was delighted to find that most of the course was single-track, which means that the trail is only wide enough for runners to go single-file. This is my favorite kind of trail because even though it may be frustrating to be stuck behind someone (or have someone stuck behind you) the mental energy it takes to strategize how to overtake a runner or runners at the next wide spot in the trail makes the time fly by. I mainly passed people on the downhill portions because I have been doing a new training program at Twist that has really improved my lateral stability. I was able to sail past others who were picking their way down the rocky trail because I had confidence that my strength and agility would keep me safe. Let me tell you, there is nothing quite as satisfying as passing a dozen other runners at a time. The only way this ever happens to me in a road race is if I skip an aid station.
It was such a beautiful day that I stopped to take pictures twice, at which point all of the runners I had recently passed got to pass me. I figured I could get them again at the next downhill. Unfortunately, there were no more good downhills (mental note: pay more attention to the course map). I really wasn't too disappointed though, as this was really a fun run for me, not something I have been training for over a long period of time and the Eugene Marathon is just two weeks away anyway, so I didn't want to push too hard. As the race progressed, I found myself further and further from other runners (both ahead and behind me). Although the course was very well marked, I did have a moment of anxiety in the last mile when I though for sure I had taken a wrong turn somewhere because there were no more arrows. The path was straight, and normal people would not have needed "confirmation" markers, but I could get lost in a room with one door and thus need more reassurance than normal people when it comes to directions. I ended up finishing with a time of 2:48:32, which is not that fast, but I was perfectly satisfied with it because I had such a wonderful time running. I didn't know it, but my husband was only a few minutes ahead of me at the end and ran straight to a port-a-potty*. I believe he may have scared the shit (literally) out of the guy in the one next door when he shouted with glee when my name was called out as I finished.
**I just took advantage of the fact that I was basically alone on the course and peed behind a tree. Another key advantage of the trail race.
The thing about trail running that I find most contradictory is that I dislike training on trails, but I love running trail races**. The reason for this is that in a race, all the fast people are already ahead of me because it's a race and we all start in a group with the fast people out front. During training, I usually run with my husband, which is great, but I constantly feel as though I am slowing him down, or I'm by myself (which is fine). But either way, I am constantly getting passed by other trail runners who are all going at least five minutes per mile faster than I am and who squash my ego a little further with each fleet footfall of their Five Fingers.
**Hagg Lake is the exception.
However, I know I can attribute the slow conquering of my hill-loathing to running trail races (when I am more apt to force myself to run up those hills) and that running trails makes me a better road racer. I also feel that trail running is gentler on my body by virtue of the fact that real trails contain neither asphalt nor concrete. The scenery is generally gorgeous, the post race support of a trail race usually exceeds that of a road race, and I get to wear my bitchin' trail shoes.What's not to love?
It had been raining for nearly two months straight in Portland, so the thing I was most looking forward to about the trip was some sunshine and I was not disappointed; race day dawned sunny and beautiful. This was of course, terrific, but it did put me in a quandary about what to wear: a short-sleeved shirt with arm sleeves or a long-sleeved, mid-weight, quarterzip? Should I add a tank top to layer under either option? I didn't want to be cold, but I really didn't want to overheat. I chose the tank and the quarterzip, but ended up taking off the tank top when we got there and it was already starting to warm up. Of course, I spent much of the race blessing and cursing my choice: Brrrrr, it sure is chilly standing here (bless) wow, I'm really starting to warm up now that I'm running (curse) boy, it's cold up here on the ridge (bless) cripes, this sun is hot (curse). In the end, it turned out to be exactly the right choice--I never did get too hot or too cold.
Looking at the elevation map didn't really give me too much information about the course. I figured there would be hills, and sure enough, there were. I was delighted to find that most of the course was single-track, which means that the trail is only wide enough for runners to go single-file. This is my favorite kind of trail because even though it may be frustrating to be stuck behind someone (or have someone stuck behind you) the mental energy it takes to strategize how to overtake a runner or runners at the next wide spot in the trail makes the time fly by. I mainly passed people on the downhill portions because I have been doing a new training program at Twist that has really improved my lateral stability. I was able to sail past others who were picking their way down the rocky trail because I had confidence that my strength and agility would keep me safe. Let me tell you, there is nothing quite as satisfying as passing a dozen other runners at a time. The only way this ever happens to me in a road race is if I skip an aid station.
 |
| Me obstructing a view of the Spokane River |
**I just took advantage of the fact that I was basically alone on the course and peed behind a tree. Another key advantage of the trail race.
The thing about trail running that I find most contradictory is that I dislike training on trails, but I love running trail races**. The reason for this is that in a race, all the fast people are already ahead of me because it's a race and we all start in a group with the fast people out front. During training, I usually run with my husband, which is great, but I constantly feel as though I am slowing him down, or I'm by myself (which is fine). But either way, I am constantly getting passed by other trail runners who are all going at least five minutes per mile faster than I am and who squash my ego a little further with each fleet footfall of their Five Fingers.
**Hagg Lake is the exception.
However, I know I can attribute the slow conquering of my hill-loathing to running trail races (when I am more apt to force myself to run up those hills) and that running trails makes me a better road racer. I also feel that trail running is gentler on my body by virtue of the fact that real trails contain neither asphalt nor concrete. The scenery is generally gorgeous, the post race support of a trail race usually exceeds that of a road race, and I get to wear my bitchin' trail shoes.What's not to love?
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