Look Where You Leap

As Leap Day approached I began to have this sense I was to get what I always seem to need: an extra 24 hours in the day. I didn't write this blog post as usual on Monday because, well, I could do it on my "extra" day (and I also wanted the novelty of posting on Leap Day for no other reason than to have February 29 logged on the blog, which is about as significant as picking out a certain coffee mug to drink from in the morning to elicit a certain mood, but that's what I do).

An extra 24 hours.

Would the laundry get washed, folded and put away? If so, Leap Day could replace my desire to declare "Naked Day" for this same purpose.

Would I have enough time to work on upcoming deadlines? If so, Leap Day would allow me to bring my head "above water," rather than stay where I usually am, just below the surface, breathing with a snorkel.

Would time for my workout come easily? If so, Leap Day could become the "restart" day I've needed in the slow-to-motivate last two weeks.

Then I started to think that perhaps Leap Day should be designated a holiday so that people can take advantage of their 24 hours however they wished. I wanted my daughters home from school. I wanted us to approach our extra 1,440 minutes with intent. By marking this bonus day in some way special, we would celebrate time--really consider what it means to have time here on earth--and thus, our life and our time together.

Backstory: I spent the weekend at the Motherhood and Words Writing Retreat. I was cocooned with seven extraordinary women with ample time for writing my life and a bonus health coaching session that provided much needed tools for living my life (and don't you know I'll be blogging about that in the future). If you'll allow me to continue with my metaphor, I feel as if I'm still snugged up in that protective cocoon built from my experience at the retreat. Sure I came home and dove back into "real lice"--oh my gosh, did I say lice? I mean life, although, yes, there was lice, too (again, another post, focus Kara!)--I can't shake the serenity. There was a metamorphis. I feel different. I have new friends; new essays; new ideas; new knowledge. I am by no means ready to fly, I am still enjoying this place of comfort and transition--LO!--the PRESENT!

Is that truly possible? Am I here, living in the present? Or... is it the coffee mug I chose this morning? The one that evokes Eastern religion and meditation for me. The green is calming, the orange blossoms--my favorite color--make me happy. Or did I pick the mug because I'm already here, in the present*, where I should stay because, to quote a friend: it's the only place my body knows.

Would you believe... while writing this post, the school district called with their automated message announcing that, due to severe weather, school is cancelled today, Leap Day. Coincidence? No, I can't see it that way. God is so unbelievably good to me like that. I will embrace the day for the holiday it is.


*Disclaimer: I kind of hate it when people talk about the importance of living life in the present when I don't feel I'm doing that very well, mostly because I'm hearing something I already know and forcing myself to think about being present doesn't seem to work very well. Therein lies my problem, as I learned on this retreat. I can't just *think* about being present, I must act on living in the present. I can no more think my way about being present as I can think myself into running a personal best 5K. For that I am planning my workouts and diligently following the plan with specific speed and strength training. So it is with living in the present. Apparently mindful workouts (sitting still, reflecting, meditating) are necessary.

Fit Moms and World Peace

Yesterday, co-author Laurie Kocanda and I talked about life as a fit mom at our local NBC affiliate. Funny thing is, dressed to workout as I was, at the end of the day I realized I never worked out, despite sweating profusely from nerves. No, I just talked about working out. And I just smelled like I worked out. Does that count?

As we mention in the segment, we'll be at the Eden Prairie Hot Mama store tonight (Feb. 21!) from 6:30-8:30. Hot Mama will donate 15% of purchases to the scholarship fund for Moms on the Run. Sure there are needier people in the world to raise money for, but if these scholarships allow a mom to be part of a fit community and find support through sweaty sisters, she will grow stronger physically and mentally, which might make her more patient and kind toward her children, which ultimately contributes to world peace. Plus, Moms on the Run raises money each year for Feed My Starving Children, so your purchase is like an investment in further fundraising. So yes, buying something new tonight at Hot Mama is contributing to world peace. Not that you need a reason to buy something new for yourself...

Having a Fit Mom: What it's like for kids from Birth to 3-Years-Old

My mom says when you grow up in a fit family you have the advantage of never having to start exercising. Apparently getting started on the path to a fit life is the hardest part. Kids in fit families just don't know any different.

Here I am working out with mom. Before I was born she would smuggle me into the fitness center.

This still goes down as our hardest workout together. What started as an easy walk around the maternity floor--throwing in some lunges and squats--became more difficult as the night went on. It left us both exhausted and crying. The exercise-induced endorphins were awesome though.

I don't exactly remember any workouts those first few months. Maybe I slept through most of them. Maybe the dog wouldn't let me out of her sight.

Early on I couldn't go to the gym because I was too little. Then mom was too sleep deprived to remember to make an appointment in the infant room. So I hung out with dad.

Tethered together like this, we got in lots of walking workouts. We were also the family's cheer team that first summer, watching as they competed and crossed finish lines. We were patient (as only mastitis can make necessary). Our turn would come.

Life changed when we got our Bob Revolution Stroller. Whether running sprints to the post office (hurry, before the bus!) or a leisurely jog through the arboretum, mom's been a reliable training partner.

As I grew and got stronger, she got stronger. At every opportunity, I was the workout.

The following summer, after all that training mom got back to crossing finish lines. I cheered her on.

Then, like a baby bird I got tossed out of the nest. I wasn't sure I could fly.

We experimented with snowshoes that winter. Awesome. 

Mom says finding opportunities to workout with kids is also an exercise in creativity and persistence.

And like we do whenever the weather allows, we "play out" a lot. If you're ever at a park never allow your mom or dad to sit on a bench and watch. Make them move, too. 

That fall they threw me out of the nest again. I'm definitely growing up active, but racing is for the birds.

We still go to the fitness center together a lot. I have my workouts and mom has hers. Mom doesn't need to smuggle me in or make an appointment any more, she just has to remember to carry more stuff in her gym bag. I'm old enough now to know better not to sabotage her workout with a dirty diaper. I've learned the day will go better for me if I let her workout... She's a nice mom and all, just nicer after the workout.

Now that I'm three, my fitness world is expanding: swimming lessons, soccer, riding my bike. So much to do. Mom still makes a pretty good training partner. She says she always will.

My Technology Use Needs Charging

The plan for Saturday's 5K was simple: Wear my new Garmin Forerunner 310 and run below my anaerobic threshold, that heart rate where my body says "I can't go this fast burning body fat; I gotta have all the sugar you have stored. And now."

The last 5K I ran back in November, I ran the first two miles way. too. fast. Then, KABOOM! My last mile was more than 30 seconds slower. What happened, explained Andy, my training consultant who conducted metabolic testing for me at my friendly neighborhood Life Time Fitness, was that above my anaerobic threshold I stop burning fat and then I ran out of glycogen. There's somewhere in the neighborhood of 80,000 to 100,000 calories of stored fat in our body, and only a mere 1,200 to 2,000 calories of stored carbohydrates. Once your body switches over to carbs, well, you can see, you have a short window to get to the finish line without self-combusting, which is what I did in that 5K last fall.

Ultimately I want to train my body to run faster while still burning fat so I can run that last mile as fast I run the first. I plan on sharing more of what I'm learning from Andy in another post, because he has dumbed down heart rate training for me with exceptional patience (that is if, you too, need it dumbed down). But for now, let's focus on the technology part, which has been the hurdle for me to even get to the heart rate training.

Why?

Well, let's get back to my story. My plan for the 5K on Saturday. I had a plan.

I got to the race, turned on my Garmin and got this message: "Low Battery."

The battery was so low, it wouldn't work at all. "No Battery" would have been more appropriate.

I had been so enamored with my new Garmin because of the potential to actually use the data to effect my training rather than as mere entertainment while I run. Andy downloaded all of my zones right into the watch and then showed me how easy it was to sync the data into my computer. This is how easy it is: the watch comes with a USB stick. So long as that is in your computer, if you just walk in front of your computer, your Garmin will sync automatically. Foolproof for tech fools like me!

Unless you forget to charge it.

My frustration was amped because, yes, while self-inflicted, has diminished my user experience with technology. As an example, here are a few incidents that have caused technology angst:

1) I remember to bring iPod to gym, forget headphones.
2) I remember to bring headphones to gym, but have uncharged iPod.
3) I have charged iPod AND headphones, but ear buds come out every 19th step.
4) I put on the heart rate strap but forget to wear the monitor around my wrist.
5) I attach the heart rate monitor to my wrist but forget to wear the strap.
6) Heart rate monitor reads 215 as I start an easy run and I wonder if I should get to the hospital.
7) Heart rate monitor reads 62 while running a moderate pace and I think I might be dying.
8) Heart rate monitor fails altogether and I realize it just needed a new battery.
9) I inadvertently hit a button on my Garmin that causes it to beep every 458 feet.

I will admit that all of this boils down to user error. But as of now--with the intersection of this new Garmin that is easy for me to use, the drive to run my fastest 5K in 20 years, and the hand-holding of Andy to make sense of how to get there--I am motivated to try harder, which includes charging all the damn devices.

As for Saturday's race I went old school. Remember Rate of Perceived Exertion? I ran based on how I felt. The beauty of being a runner for as long as I have is that your internal monitor becomes pretty darn reliable. I'd say it doesn't even need charging, but I think that's what my daily morning coffee is for. And I do like being charged. Just like my Garmin, which is now charged and ready for my next run.