Smashed it...No, not on St. Paddy's day... or, the power of music

So, I've been working hard to get past that blasted 12 to 12.5 minute mile pace I have been stuck at on the elliptical.  And, to be frank, I have my own personal playlist I use at the gym--but after a bit of research, I find that the playlist is best really for cleaning the kitchen, or scrubbing my toilets.  (Adele anyone?)

So, I looked it up...man, everything is on the internet.   Since I am trying to cut my time, and increase the distance I complete in a 60 minute session, I had to find something better to listen to.  Yeah, I am a bit competitive with myself, I admit.  Which is why Average Joe really should get me to compete with myself rather than with someone else, who may "make it to the wall of fame" before me.

Sorry, Average Joe, I really don't care how other people view me--I care about what I can accomplish...it's trial and error for me.  So, during my few days off this week, I downloaded what I can for my "Maggie" playlist--you know the one with Adele and Jewel...as well as a few old songs that shouldn't be there for a workout--like "One Headlight," but it brings back such memories.

Here are a few of the songs I found that really got my blood pumping to push me through some hard earned goals...I will be adding a few more later:

Now, the beat on this is just perfect--but if you're like me, you actually listen to the words, because just about all songs tell some sort of story.  This is actually a sad story, but good beat.

This is from my daughters playlist -- and for running it really should be a bit faster, but I love the words...it brings me back to why I am doing this "getting in shape thing."

Ever since my hubby was downrange the first time, and started watching "Veronica Mars," I have loved this song.   There is a faster version somewhere out there.

I can't seem to make a playlist without the Clash, it's in my blood.

This song makes me feel naughty and good all at the same time, so I punch through that last bit of a mile with it.

There are also two songs I chose to slow down to, usually use them both, one for a warm up and one for the cool down:

And the Final song--I like to end on this:

I found today, that choice of music can really make my work-out.  While I am old and set in my ways, I will be searching for more songs to push it with.   Better yet, Smash it.

Hubby recommends Pantera, "Walk," but it didn't make my pop cut :)

What do you go for when you are looking for something to help you push yourself?

<3 Maggie <3

Back in the Saddle-bags...

Well, I've been forced, cruelly, to take a few days off the work-outs.  Some mix of horrid cold and severe allergies have been knocking my sinuses out of commission.

I did go do the work-out scheduled with Average Joe on Thursday, but...that's about the size of it.  Most of the work-out with him was spent with him snapping his fingers in my face wondering "Where did you just go, Maggie?"

Because apparently I would stare off into space mid-lift. Literally, mid lift...like I would rest in the 'flexed' position and stare off into space thanks to cold medicine.

I have not done much in the way of cardio--unless you, like 'myfitnesspal' count everyday chores as cardio. 

Today--I really should get back in the gym.  I know it's Sunday, but I am betting there will not be many people there.  (Being the day after St Paddy's Day).

Not sure who owns this above--it came around Facebook yesterday.

 And, since I have a legs day tomorrow, I really should do something before training, right?

 

Found this on Pinterest of all places---but searched it on Youtube for ease :)

 

Yeah, maybe I should stop watching Downton Abbey?

Someone needs to get me a cup of coffee, and 86 me from Starbucks before I get back in my three a day habit.  After just a few days off, I am pretty sure my saddlebags are fully engaged now.

I walked into the gym today with a mind to 'take it easy' and only do about a half hour on the elliptical trainer.   Trouble is, I had a lunch interview yesterday, so I had to 'split the workout.' Which is difficult at best.  First there is the motivation factor--I had already worked with Average Joe for an hour of humiliating squats, balance ball work, and that blasted kettle ball--what is that all about anyhow.

So, coming back to the gym after a leisurely lunch in my spanks--because I am not quite there with the jiggle yet, was traumatic.  I ended up doing about 35 minutes on the elliptical yesterday--three hours after my warm up and one hour in my own personal hell.

Squat really is an unpleasant word, you know?

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No, no, that's not me...Average Joe is not that nice.  He has me turn the Bosu over so that the stable side is under my feet, you know, in case I get 'cocky' like Booth's belt buckle.

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I admit, I wore that same belt buckle during my interview,  under my highly professional suit, with an emerald green shirt, because Mommy said to.  "It brings out your eyes, and it's such a dreary day up here anyhow.  May as well add a little 'pop.'"  But, I digress...again.

So yesterday, I cramped up at 35 minutes to the point of stopping --probably all the water at lunch.  Nothing like going to Olive Garden for their water.  And Dry Salad.

Today, I had every intention of doing the same, you know taking it easy.  But I could see Average Joe from the corner of my eye during the warm up--which put the kabash on that.

So, like anyone who has lost their mind--and had a hearty breakfast of a cup of Chobani Yogurt (Fat-free Raspberry) and TWO count 'em, TWO Grande, Triple, Non-fat, Caramel Macchiato's at 120 degrees (so I can chug rather than sip), Stirred--instant gratification rather than waiting for the caramel at the bottom--I started the interval training program on the elliptical.  You know so it's obvious that I am sweating.

O--M--G.

25 minutes in, my friend called, so I answered, no doubt out of breath.  She is like "Why did you stop?"

"Well......you.....called...GASP....so...I...GASP....had...an...excuse...GASP...to...tone...it...down."

But here's the thing... I...felt...A-MAZING after the interval training.  It was so awesome. I know the calculations on the calorie counter on the elliptical were dead wrong, but I totally didn't care.  I did another 30 minutes at regular (high) level, just not too fast. 

When I finished, I felt better than almost any workout to this point. Totally, going to do the intervals again as I can. I was dripping with sweat, felt like the macchiato's weren't going to make my body seize, and was really ready for the day.

When I got home and was about to get in the shower--I got the call from Aidan's school to come pick him up because he had a bad day and was throwing a typical Aidan fit. 

There went my high from the workout.


Sigh.

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.

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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.

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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?

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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?

Post-Donut Lunch

Spinach salad with mushroom, red pepper, and feta, and tomato soup that is blazing hot because I forgot that I put it on the stove.  My attention span is that short.  Curse my son for bringing home fresh hot maple glazed donuts this morning!!!!

--Betsy