Well, Dang.

Hoooo doggie its been hot in Vermont for the past two weeks and instead of sitting on my butt blogging and editing pictures like I usually do I actually got up and went outside!  Every day all day!  We have broken the record for high temps here for the past FIVE (5) days in a row!

 

80s people!!

This ain't normal folks.

Let's see, a recap of how I have tried to substitute real life movement for hypnotized elliptical training/CSI watching:

At least I got to see a bald eagle on my pee squeezing walk

I walked for 5 hours 2 Saturdays ago.  Or was it last Saturday?  Who keeps track of stuff like days and times anyway?  I started walking at 9:30am.  I got a half mile or so from home and realized I had drank a 16oz coffee right before I left.  Go before you go, people!  That's like a rule of life you are supposed to learn when you are 2!  SO I thought I would be fine just "holding it".  I made it another mile before I started hopping.  I went to call my husband to come get me and saw that I only had 1 bar of battery left!  My phone is a piece of genuine crap and I knew if I tried to call and he didn't answer that I'd be shit out of luck.  Or piss.  whatever.   So I texted him instead.  I waited for 5 minutes at the place I told him I would be, eagerly anticipating a ride to the nearest loo.  Nothing.  So I texted him again.  I told him I would meet him a little farther down on the main road.  Waited for 10 minutes, took some pictures of dirt, and still no blue car carrying my knight in shining armor.  Damn.  I looked at my phone and it gave me the finger.  It said "Battery Low" and just kept blinking.  I looked around for a place to go but really there was no where.  So I started walking.  I imagine you tone up your glutes when you are walking how I was walking.

I made it home (2 miles away P.S.) and glared at my husband as I walked in the door.  Did I mention I was totally PMS'ing?  Oh yea it WAS this past Saturday!  All coming back to me now.
"Don't you have your phone on??" I snapped.  He had that look of "Oh shibitz" on his face, trying to remember where he had put it.  "I had to PEE!!!!  What if I had been kidnapped?!?!  They would have taken me!"  And he probably would have been totally fine with that at this point.  I regrouped in the bathroom and then declared that we were taking another walk.  This time with our 2 year old.  I walked around for another hour and a half with them.  Suddenly I felt a sharp pain inside of me.  The kind that makes me look at my little rump roast I mean daughter and gives me Wile E. Coyote ideas.  I was STARVING.  I had totally forgotten to eat anything since I had breakfast, which was at 7:00am.  OOPS.  We were 2 miles away from home again.  All I had was a stick of gum.  That stick of gum was pulverized into a fine powder by the time we finally got home.  I inhaled a bagel and most likely some kind of chocolate.

I decided that I needed to detail my car.  I'm not sure what that term really means, but I took it to mean that I needed to make my car look something other than a mobile dumpster.  First, I washed it.  Then for good measure I washed my van as well (way bigger, way more calories to burn!).  Then I opened up the car and started heaving crap out.  On the floor where my older child puts her feet (and sometimes my oldest child) was this big dark stain that God only knows what it is.  I made my husband clean that.  Then I polished everything, vacuumed the hell out of it, and hosed down the floor mats.  The sun was getting low in the sky but it was still 75 degrees so I took a walk.  By dinner time my feet were tingling and my thighs told me they give up.  I felt good.  Now if only I hadn't been PMS'ing and eaten all that chocolate.  Its really amazing that I haven't gained 10 lb since Saturday.

View from the top of Mt Philo

Sunday I hiked up Mt. Philo with some ladies from church, which is the best hike ever because its PAVED.  Yes, a bike path basically up this somewhat small mountain that overlooks the lake and the real mountains.  We took  my 11 year old son, a 6 year old child, and a dog with us.  As soon as I stepped out of the car my thighs were like "Hey!  Remember yesterday?!?!  Our union says we get a day off!"  My thighs don't really talk to me I swear.  Don't tell anyone.  So I pretended I was not in pain and started up all perky and stuff.  The dog was RUNNING up the mountain.  Oh to be a 9 month old Doberman.  When we got to the top it was beautiful out still.  Then we went back down.  Super easy.

Monday I did sit on my ass for a while.

But I walked the kids home from school so I got 2 miles in.

Tuesday I walked the kids to school, and took a walk in the afternoon to get my little one to sleep.

Two of my little freakmonkeys.

 85 flippin' degrees.

Wednesday I drove a lot and walked a little.  

SERIOUSLY!?!?!

Thursday (today) I walked the kids to school and then went on a muddy hike through a local state park with my friend and her daycare.

Indian Brook

Now that was interesting.  I then walked my middle child home from school.  We call that a "leisurely" walk when coding it on My Fitness Pal.  My little doop-dee-doo is not a fast walker.  I'm ok with that though.

 If I'd been walking too fast I wouldn't have gotten to see this!

I didn't eat breakfast today (not on purpose) but I did eat three yogurts, 3 small peppermint patties, a peanut butter and fluff sandwich (also not on purpose but I ain't complaining), 2 tacos, 4 small peanut butter cookies, and a bowl of ice cream.  Pretty sure I evened out my calories burned.  I just can't seem to get to that point where I'm exercising more than I'm eating.

Tomorrow is to be the coldest day we've had in 2 weeks at 60 degrees with a stiff wind.  Sadly, the high pressure system that was holding off the eskimo air from Canadia (typo but i'm keeping it) is finally moving out and normal March weather in Vermont is coming for next week.  Which means I'll be back to sitting on my butt and desperately trying to stay below 130 lb by using the elliptical three times a day to balance out my chocolate addiction.  It seems to have calmed down since, you know, Auntie Flo came.  Thank God for that I was running out of Hershey bars!

Back Down

This pic has nothing to do with my post but it makes me happy.

Tuesday last week I had a crown put on that required a lot of novocaine and apparently the spot on my gums that I had damaged with a pointy french fry (exactly why I NEVER used to eat the pointy ones at McD's when I was a teenager) got irritated from all the frigging around the dentist did.  When the novocaine wore off I wanted to die.  I had to go lay down in my bed and sleep the pain off it was that bad.  All day long I was in pain in my mouth.

The next morning I woke up and had no pain in my mouth.  I was so happy!  But then I started to get out of bed and BAM my back went out.  The pain in my mouth had caused me to tense up so badly that my pre-existing musculo-skeletal imbalance flared up.  Last time it happened this bad was in 2004 and I got pregnant with my 2nd child because all I could do was lay on my back for two weeks.......

Thankfully pregnancy is not going to happen this time!  But on Thursday the pain had not gotten any better so I made an appointment with my doctor's office.  Unfortunately I did not get my regular doctor who is young and agreeable.  I got an older woman who has been there a long time.  I had to bring my two younger kids with me as I didn't know how long the appointment would last and didn't want to leave them with the oldest for too long.

If you are wondering, yes I have gone to a chiropractor many many times.  They can fix it for a few days but then it comes back.  I really want to find out what can be done long term.  And get some muscle relaxers so I could sleep that night.  First the doctor asked me about 10,000 questions to rule out spinal cord injury.  Apparently she didn't hear me when I said that it happens all the time and I just need a prescription.  As the girls began causing ruckus after the first 20 min of questioning (we had also just spent 35 min waiting for the appt to begin as they were running late) she finally seemed to listen to me.
"Please, I just need some Flexeril.  I have had it before for this same problem and it helped."
"So, yes, I think that would probably be the best thing then.  Some Flexeril. OK.  But I want you to take Advil for the pain."
"But Ma'am, Advil does NOTHING for me.  I took some yesterday and it just doesn't work.  I have a prescription for Vicodin that I need renewed..."
"Oh, well, I don't like to give narcotics to women with young children." She says.  WTF.  OK, so apparently she failed to note that I have had a script for it for the past 2 years to take for pains that advil does not help and that I have never abused it or tried to get any for any reason other than pain. WHATEVER.  THANKS JUNKIES.

I didn't feel like arguing due to the intense pain and kids screaming and running around so I took the script for the Flexeril and left feeling about the same as I usually do at this doctor practice:  annoyed and unheard.  Now yes, I am an arrogant, egotistical, stubborn person.  I know that about myself.  But why is it that most of the time when I go to the doctor I already know what I need, the doctor doesn't listen to me, yet comes to the same conclusion that I already had and then pretends they thought of it?  Am I just nuts or what?  Oh well.

So, long story long, what ultimately worked was Flexeril to help me sleep, heating pad for an hour while watching Criminal Minds, and then after 2 days of that I started using the elliptical BACKWARDS ONLY for an hour each night, then heating pad for an hour watching CSI.  Today, exactly a week later, I woke up and my back didn't hurt at all.  Well, until I picked up the laundry basket for the first time in a week.  I won't do that again!!

<3 Betsy

The Learning Curve, or, I am just not 18 anymore

I meant to write this yesterday, since there was literally absolutely nothing else I could do anyhow.  Instead, I ended up watching "Downton Abbey," yet again, longing for a time that insults had class. The first season is available streaming on Netflix, if you too want  a time when insults had class.  It also has Dame Maggie Smith as a snarky old Dowager Countess, which just adds to the allure for me also, but again, I digress.

This past Sunday, I got it into my head that I needed to walk the kids until they were so tired they could barely move, you know so I could study in peace without Aidan running in every few minutes begging to use the iPhone and play his crazy animal and dragon apps.  So we walked, and walked, and walked, a total of 6.5 miles and a trip to the local library, grocery store and IHOP, because half way through the walk (we still had to return home) the kids were starved.

The whole time, the littlest, Aidan, complained every ten feet that his ankle was broken.   He had to stop all the time and complain that his foot may fall off, mostly because he really didn't want to be walking...that is, until we arrive at the playground, where he was miraculously healed until we left again for the trek home.   Timmy and Maddie were real troopers and just kept going, and going, like the energizer bunny.

Photo Credit

It's been a while since I walked so much (add a little jogging hunting down Aidan with his 'broken ankle').  When I was 21, I had Timmy.  A little over 11 months later, I had Maddie.  6 months after Maddie, I somehow got it into my head that I wanted to get promoted in the Army and the PT test was ALL a mental game.  It's really not, you should practice.  Anyhow, shortly before my promotion (I had to go to a school, then called Primary Leadership Development Course, PLDC,  now called Warrior Leaders Course, WLC), my grandfather died.  I was close to him after nursing him quite a lot at 15-18 until I joined the Army, after backpacking around Europe with my sister and cousin--tha'ts another story. 

This is me, glacier climbing in the Alps.  We didn't just backpack, we filled days with cool things like canyoning, drinking local beers, glacier climbing, drinking local beers, visiting cathedrals, drinking local beers, and walking on cobblestones in 3-4 inch heels.  Awesome.  And, once in a while we splurged for a local beer. Or five.  Or we carried a six pack in each of our backpacks for the train rides.

When I took the PT test, six months after Madison was born, I felt these god-awful pains in my legs.  I didn't finish the test, I ran about 1.5 miles and stopped, which is a no-no.  My supervisor had Matt (who was as always, cheering me on and trying to pace me to beat the time I needed to, always the fabulously encouraging hubby) take me to the ER, so they could find out if anything was wrong with me--so he didn't have to count the test as a failure.

It was the last PT test I would ever take. I didn't just have average shin splints as I thought, I had stress fractures from hip to toe. Literally, the doctors all came in as a team and told me, had I run a mere 100 yards more, I would have shattered both legs, as it was, I would never run again. I would not even be allowed to do the 'walk' PT test, I would only be allowed to swim.  My career was over in the Army--although I was in for another two years.

Flash forward to the walk with Aidan's broken foot. After the walk, my legs cramped up a bit.  I figured I just needed to work it out.  So I went to training yesterday.

Oh sweet Jesus, so much pain.  I did the hour with Average Joe, in constant pain, and then took an hour off to do the elliptical, refreshed.   The leg day had me moving like I was 90, it took 33 minutes on the elliptical for my legs to 'loosen up' so I could bare to get through the measly 5 miles and 60 minutes. 

That's a 12.5 minute mile in case you're counting.

I went home and got in the bath -- I couldn't bear to stand up for the shower. 

Suddenly, as I lay in bed, both legs elevated, I have been in this position before, about 11 years ago.  Shin splints, ripping apart my muscles and slapping against my bones, causing minor stress fractures.

Photo Credit

Sure, I can tape my legs and fight through, but I have already been down this road. But, instead, I will talk to Average Joe and get his recommendation as to how to work out to keep up my momentum but not further damage my legs.   That's all I need, right?  To be 3,000 miles away from my husband in full leg casts with three kids to try and chase after.   Good God, I hope his compassionate reassignment comes through, so I have someone at home who knows how to ice me up...and more so I can have the momentum kept up, so I don't stress out as easily.

Back to "Downton Abbey" and insults that have class.

<3 Maggie

How to eat, or, a rude awakening.

I admit it, I am bad about eating.  I used to love big breakfasts, either homemade, or eaten out.  Loved it all, something nice about just relaxing and having all those wonderful things you can have at breakfast time.  The problem is, I have always had this little oddity, wherein I can't have the sweets, unless I have the protein, or am willing to have my family put up with me being a sugar induced basket case.

Enter my love of eggs.  The perfect cheap food to counterbalance my love of sweet breakfast.  Then, at about 24 or 25 (after kid number 3 is born) enter my blasted sensitivity to eggs.  I refuse to admit an allergy, because the egg issue just doesn't react the same way as other allergic reactions for me.  Blasted hell, now I can't eat the eggs to counteract the sweets, leaving out the sweets also.  Oatmeal it is.  Which I do love.  Also love yogurt, especially of the Greek variety, and it's a great protein source.

The trouble is, after so many years of eating big breakfasts, I find myself mentally challenged in eating breakfast at all, now that all I can have is the 'healthy' stuff. I know it's sad. 

Then began the work-outs, and yes I would have to work at eating breakfast, and mid-morning snack, and lunch, and mid-afternoon snack, and so on and so on.  I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  I have been so terrible about the eating, it's not so much about freaking out about the diet change, it's actually eating.  I honestly do forget, after years of training myself to subsist until starvation mode on caffeine.   Triple, grande caramel macchiato, non-fat milk, 120 degrees, stirred.  You know so I don't have to think, but can just gulp away.

Realization hit, regarding the error of my ways, as I tried to sit down yesterday afternoon.  I had worked out hard on Monday, per my sadistic trainer, but it was now Wednesday, why am I still in pain.

Well, let's see...you barely ate Monday, you barely ate Tuesday, and It's Wednesday afternoon and all you have to show for it is ONE Greek Yogurt?  And shortly after the realization, ONE Tuna sandwich?  Nice.  Maggie you are a moron, you ware working out to the tune of about 400-700 calories a day, and that's just in the gym.  And you think you can get away with you crappy forgetting to eat lifestyle?  No wonder you are still in pain, your body is probably eating it's own muscles.

So, I did what any tech savy, responsible adult would do:  I got on app center on the iphone and searched calorie counter. 

Photo Credit for My Fitness Pal Screenshot

I started playing with it, putting in what I had eaten, drank, and the exercise I had done that day.  My results:  You will be skinny as hell, and well, dead, in 5 weeks if every day is like today.

So, I hunted up a high protein snack bar from my crazy pre-workout purchase the other day.   And ate it and added to the listing.  STILL 900 calories short of a really low caloric intake number.  Awesome.  So, salad for dinner, with chicken. Still 450 calories short.  Alright, damnit, add some frickin cookies--only trouble is, I only have "Newton's Fruit Thins," which are strangely low in calories and kinda okay for you as cookies go.  Add three.  Still under.  Add five.  Only 200 calories under, I guess that will do, tomorrow will be better, right?

Photo Credit

It's 135 pm here, and I am about to break the rules and chow on a powerbar--since it's right next to my desk and all.  That leaves me with 1125 calories remaining for the day -- and the insanely low caloric count, which really needs to be raised by about 500 calories considering my activity level during the day--outside of the gym.

I seriously have got to get this breakfast crap under control.  I think I will bake some muffins tonight and pray all night long the kids don't slather them with chocolate frosting and eat them as cupcakes.

Any ideas?

It's all because of the stress

One week ago today, I signed up for a gym.  I did this for a few reasons:

1) It's closer to my house than the Y, which is 20 minutes away (sucks).

2) I need to sleep better--seriously.

3) I am under mounds of stress, out of work for over 6 months (this time--about 1.5 years ago it was about 1.5 years long.).  My regular unemployment ended, and my couponing is just not going so well - I am stuck at about 50-60% savings.  Add to that 3 kids, a husband stationed 3,000 miles away, and finishing up a masters degree, and yeah you could say stress meter is out of control.

4) I am 34 years old.  Everyone tells you but you don't believe it: "If you don't keep up on stuff, your ass will get squshy at 30."  Yeah,over 30 and have a massive ass to lend to squishyness.  No, not really fat, just have full on apple-bottom ba-dank-a-dank.

So I walked in to sign up for the gym.  And while I was there, sale guy with glasses says: "We have a special on personal training, 3 sessions for only 99 bucks."

Well, I still had some of my tax-return.   So, yeah, I can use that swift kick in the ass a personal trainer provides.  Sign me up, oh mighty one.

They set my appointment for me, for the next morning, much to my dismay.  Although, I suppose it's why I signed up, you know swift kick in the squishy ass to get me motivated.

830 am the next morning, I show up and meet my new trainer, let's call him average joe trainer.

"Hi," he says, "I''m average joe trainer and they tell me I can work the shit out of you."

"You can try,"  I reply.

This is going to be fun.  I can just tell.