Race Hangover

Yesterday afternoon I was wasted. Not wasted in the way of an alcoholic stupor, or a drug haze, or deep depression. No, I was incapacitated in a whole different way: Mommy had a race hangover. The Bloomington Iron Girl--a 2-mile run, 22-mile bike, 2-mile run--left me in a state of "lump" for the remainder of the day.

As much as I wanted to call on my husband to take over, I just couldn't. Instead I sent him off on that beautiful fall afternoon to ride his bike. Not only had I spent all morning doing "my thing," but also he secured his title as father-of-the-year by packing up the four kids and hauling them to the race course and then appearing at THE EXACT MOMENT I needed to see them, which was coming up a hill at the start of the second two-mile run. This gave me such a jolt of surprise and energy that I was able to pass the woman I had trailed the entire race (and further the devastation on my body).

I had to find a way to not take care of my children. The only reason I can make this admission publicly is because I am certain--certain!--most (every?) mother has had this thought at some point in her mothering life.

I needed to hole up in my bed until I could muster the courage to walk on my jello-like legs (make that jello flambe because my wobbly legs also felt as if they were on fire).

I put The Boy down for a nap, ready or not. For the girls I hauled out their enormous box of 5478 Barbies to play with and then as a back-up started a movie. "Don't bother mommy until the movie is over," I said.

As I tried to sleep off my duathlon it occurred to me that part of my epic crash could have something to do with the catered breakfast Iron Girl provides at the finish line (white linen, floral centerpieces, I mean, classy). The breakfast buffet included pancakes and sausage, egg croissant sandwiches, muffins, donuts, fresh fruit, juice, coffee; basically, all the food you could want after a long, hard effort. I didn't set any course record that day or win an age-group award but I earned my breakfast!

So I was in a state of duathlon drunkenness and a food coma. Serious and debilitating combination.

The only act of mothering I managed yesterday was to ask one of my daughters to please not lick the light switch. If that sounds strange to you imagine what it looked like. I didn't even have the energy to ask why she was licking the light switch. (To taste? French kiss? What the?)

I distinctly remember the tongue-on-light switch happening, but who has kids that lick light switches? I'm hoping that strange vision was just a hallucination during my race hangover; perhaps because I ran too fast, or because I ate too many pancakes.

Surely someone out there has a good remedy to cope with fitness hangovers. Do share.

Odds and Ends

Here's a little something to take you into your weekend.

I came across this article in the New York Times, "Just Me and My Pessimism in the Race of Truth," by Gina Kolata (whose job I envy). After my post on Monday about my own pessimism I found it very interesting. Great stuff about what motivates us to compete and why others have no desire. What camp do you fall in?

And if you haven't worked out today, don't know where to start, or are looking for something new and different, you must see this video post by Charlotte at The Great Fitness Experiment. That girl is always entertaining (evident in her soon-to-be-released book: ">The Great Fitness Experiment: One Year of Trying Everything). What she shares in "Push Ups Getting Boring?" are 30--THIRTY!-- different ways to do a pushup. That could be it's own fitness experiment for me. Starting Oct. 1, I will try a different push up every day. You in?

Speaking of soon-to-be-released book... the book I've co-authored is now available for pre-order! Yahoo! Seeing the book online is *almost* as good as holding a copy in my hands. A real life copy will definitely be better. Still, online is good, very good. The real life copy of Hot (Sweaty) Mamas is coming in March 2011!

Exercising Demons

Negative self-talk. I hate when I do that. Is that negative self-talk about negative self-talk?

Honestly I try to avoid it. Anytime I so much as have an "I can't do this" thought, I immediately try to replace it with something positive. Yesterday, however, while on a 30-mile bike ride with my husband, I let the demons creep into my psyche and I had a heck of a time exorcising them. (Wait for it...)

The bike ride started out well. It was a cool 55-degree morning and I was wearing cold-weather bike gear that likely hadn't seen the light of day since I trained for Ironman New Zealand 8+ years ago. Seriously. These days, even though I typically ride in only perfect-weather conditions I didn't grumble. I was happy to be on a workout date with my husband.

The route was lovely. Not a single complaint there, either. Views of Lake Minnetonka, lush trees, some beginning to take a turn toward yellow and orange hues, some already blazing red.

In the beginning I was keeping up quite well, which encouraged me because I haven't been on my bike much this year, hardly at all last year. I was beginning to think that the 22-mile bike route in the Iron Girl Duathlon this Sunday wouldn't be too hard to tackle after all.

Then somebody left the door open to my mind and the demons started creeping in.

About mile 18 I was ready to be close to home (I had no idea where home was at this point or how long the ride would ultimately take). The breakfast I ate that morning was withering away and I did not prepare with additional calories on the ride. I noticed my husband had to wait for me now, at the top of hills, at intersections, before turns.

"I can't do this," I said after catching up to him near the end of our ride. "This is just not my thing."

Why did I say that? It was a backhanded attempt to apologize for holding him up, I think.

"Just ride," he said.

And there was much self-loathing all the way home. So much, that I did not enjoy the scenery the rest of the way. I didn't notice that there was no cumbersome wind to deal with or that the day was warming up to be a perfect fall afternoon. Nope, in my head I felt nothing but defeat. I'm just not any good. Why do I bother? And on it went.

You have too many workouts like this and it can be the death knell for your fitness. Realistic expectations are a must, and focusing on what you can accomplish, versus what you should have done or didn't do, provides the momentum for improvement.

My husband reminded me that riding more would likely help me feel better about riding more.

That was it: I needed to exercise those demons to exorcise those demons. (There, I knew I'd find a place to say this!)

I will get on my bike more and make sure my mind is shut tight to that negative self-talk by keeping my expectations realistic. For the rest of the day I allowed myself to feel grateful for the morning ride/date I had with my husband and I even look forward to conquering that route again another day.

Maybe turning negatives into positives is part of the fitness journey. What do you think? Have you had to exercise or exorcise any demons lately?

How Big is Your Hippocampus?

While we're buzzing around the childhood obesity epidemic, we have yet another reason to tout the benefits of exercise in children: it grows a bigger hippocampus.

If you picture a herd of grazing hippos on a sprawling university lawn then we should hang out together more often.

But that's not what I mean.

The hippocampus is that place deep down inside your brain that helps out with memory, reasoning and understanding. You can read all about the effect of exercise on the hippocampus at Science Daily.

I consider myself superfit but my memory, reasoning and understanding are lackluster, which suggests the bigger hippocampus theory doesn't apply to adults. But this is about the children right? It's all about what's good for the children...

And that's exercise. Because exercise, in addition to keeping them at a healthy weight and free from all those nasty chronic diseases, makes our kids smarter. Smarter than their exercising parents, apparently.

The Blendier The Better

Working out with my kids isn't always my first choice for a few reasons; namely my workout often serves as my "mommy break." I'd like to tell you I don't need any time away from the children I love and adore so much... but I do. So every once in awhile when I end up with a tagalong or two or four, I'm pleasantly surprised how much I enjoy the family fitness time (so long as no catastrophes or temper tantrums ensue, which is typical so I'm not all that often pleasantly surprised).

But I got such an experience recently when one of my 7-year-olds refused to go to the park with her siblings and dad (a fight had erupted earlier so this was an effort to punish her sisters). Because I had only one kid on my hands--and no need to share this with the others but she's the most easy going of the bunch--I let her stay with me on the condition that she ride her bike while I run. And that's what we did. That girl rode her bike for 50 minutes without a single complaint.

We had a blast. We discovered the goat farm our neighbor told us about (apparently soap, cheese and wool products are sold there), explored a closed bridge, discussed butterflies and hummingbirds and stopped a few times for turtle sightings along a lake.

We talked about why certain animals blended in with nature. She knew the answer and then asked:

"Does a shark eat an octopus or does an octopus eat a shark?"

"I don't think I know that," I said, assuming she was looking to me for the answer. "I'd guess the shark."

"Nope!" she trounced, sure that's what I'd say. "The octopus eats the shark!"

"How do you know this?"

"We watched a movie in school last year."

"Really?" (And I'm thinking, this kind of carnage in kindergarten?)

"Yes, the octopus wins because it's blendier with the ocean."

I loved that run. And I'm reminded that on my quest to find running partners around this new territory of mine, sometimes those people are "blendier" with my surroundings and right under my nose.

How to Tell the Tired Fairy to Back Off

Early last Wednesday morning, while barely conscious enough to remember it was my morning to run, I immediately started bargaining with myself. “I’ll start getting up again when it’s September,” I told myself. Satisfied with my sleepy proposition, I stayed tucked under the covers. When I eventually got out of bed, my more-awake self didn’t feel good about that decision for 30-more minutes of unsatisfying sleep. “But you’ll get back to your routine in September,” my lazy alter ego offered as a reminder. And then the real me rolled my eyes and groaned: But today IS September!

I had been duped by the tired fairy.

I have blogged before about that slippery slope, when a few missed workouts can lead to a total couch potato makeover. I’m ready to get out of my funk and build my arsenal against the tired fairy.

• I started taking a multivitamin again.
• Between the morning coffee and the evening glass of wine, I’m drinking more water (pumpkin-colored urine should not be a nod to fall).
• I’m taking my own advice about squeezing in small doses of fitness--10 pushups here, 10 squats there.
• I’ve recommitted to my Wednesday morning run (OK, it’s only been once so far, but I did it).

Another good motivator is motivating others. When Tanya Maslach, the founder of GOTRIbal (a website that cross-posts Mama Sweat) asked me to provide three tips for motivating women in endurance sports, I knew I couldn't very well dish out advice if I was being a slacker and submitting to the will of the tired fairy.

After getting up to run this Wednesday morning I remembered what I know for sure about fitness:

You will never regret getting up early to workout but you almost always will regret missing an early morning workout.

Another truth I've discovered in my life in general and especially in fitness--and applies to squeezing in a short workout between school busses, naps, snack, and grocery store runs as well as watching my body go farther than I could have believed possible:

The more I do the more I realize I can do.

And one of my all-time favorites, which I've shared before, was used by a good friend 20 years ago while bar-hopping, but definitely applies to endurance sports and mothers everywhere:

Bodies in motion stay in motion.

Sharing this advice with the women at GOTRIbal and here with you, is a good refresher for me, as well. I know what I need to do to get out of bed, it's just a matter of being able to recall it when it's dark and I'm sooooo comfortable under the covers. I must be mentally strong, too, in order to keep fitness in my hands and not the hands of the tired fairy.