Woohoo!

These past two weeks have been filled with quite a few meaningful accomplishments, which has been just the boost I need. Sometimes over the past few weeks I've felt my headstrong, unwavering, go-hard-or-go-home attitude begin to waver slightly and it freaks me out. I don't want to lose that drive. Then I think about what I've accomplished, and I realize that I'm crazy- I'm not losing my drive at all; maybe I'm just relaxing it's grip on me a little bit.

Way back in December, when I first started Weight Watchers, I set my first weight-loss goal. I wanted to be a certain weight by May 1st. To be honest it was an arbitrary date and an arbitrary weight, except for that back then I thought it sounded like the beginning of summer and summer is a good time to be feeling thinner, and it was about a pound a week, which was realistic. Now, me being me, I don't just set a goal and forget it. This goal was on my mind every day. Even if I wasn't thinking "May 1st" I was thinking of what weight I needed to be at the next week in order to be on track for May 1st. My rollercoaster-like weight loss patterns sometimes made me think I'd be derailed somewhere along the way. But, gosh darn it, if I didn't make it then I was going to be as close as humanly possible, and I wasn't going to allow myself to be standing on the scale on May 1st thinking "Well if I hadn't had that cake/pizza/ice cream/Coca-Cola/french fries, I would have made it. If I hadn't skipped the gym/layed on the couch all day/slept in/been so lazy, I would have made it." Helllllllz no. I was beyond determined to prove to myself that I could do this; that willpower and persistence would be my keys to success. The struggle of weight loss (and no matter how much willpower and persistence you have, it is definitely a struggle) you play a constant numbers game: I ate 7 points at lunch. I ran 2 miles. I was at the gym for 60 minutes. I worked out 5 days this week. Count your points, measure your portions, time your pace. All those numbers were worth it when, on May 1st, I got on the scale and saw the exact number I wanted to see. I met my May 1st goal!

The following week was my next 5k. It was by far the largest race Lola and I have run in so far (more than 5,000 people total) which was very cool. For some reason, this was also the first race where I wasn't very nervous at the starting line. The course was great- not too hilly, yet not too flat and boring. It was through neighborhoods and the people were very excited to see the runners come through, lots of them were out on their porches cheering or blasting music. I finished mile 1 in 9:53. That was the fastest I have ever run a mile. It was also the first time during a race that I ran the entire mile without stopping. And I knew I could keep going. I ran straight through mile 2 and into 3. Shortly into 3 I had to stop, but I was okay with that. It was still the best I have ever run- race or not. And, adding to the triumph of the day, I crossed the finish line at 33:43-- my best time yet by more than 30 seconds. It was a great, great feeling.

Tonight's accomplishment was smaller but still significant. I went swimming! Phew! I've been so nervous about the fact that I haven't started training for the swim, so it felt great to finally get in the water. And I was lucky enough to have Audrey as my swim coach. She went to a swim clinic a few weekends ago, and learned lots of helpful hints that she passed along to me after analyzing my technique (or lack thereof). I am hugely thankful for that, because when I first got in the water and realized the things I was doing wrong, I was slightly freaked out that the triathlon swim might mean my demise. As with running, it's the breathing I have a problem with-- but it's even harder to think about breathing while you're swimming because there truly are some less-opportune times to take a breath (i.e., when your face is in the water). But by the time I got out of that pool I had improved quite a bit (again, thanks to Audrey!) and felt much better about swimming. I probably would have felt even better if I hadn't forgotten to bring a towel with me and didn't have to dry off with Audrey's extra sweatshirt and some paper towels. I am not joking; I was in a situation where drying my body with a sweatshirt was the best option available. And Audrey is teeny, so her sweatshirt was not very big and I didn't have very much material to work with. Although it was surprisngly absorbent. Still, forgetting a towel when you're going swimming is like forgetting socks when you're going running (meaning it's a completely doofus move). Even though drying off with a sweatshirt is not the greatest, thank goodness for Audrey and her sweatshirt. I absolutely HATE getting dressed if my body has even a drop of water still on it, so this was quite particularly torturous for me, but what would I have done if she wasn't there? Answer: I would still be there, trying to get dry so I could put my clothes on and go home.