Happy Holidays...here's a few lbs!

I'm not quite sure what it is about this time of year...but ever since I can remember, all I want to do is eat, eat, eat.  Doesn't matter what it is, if it's not nailed down, I'll eat it.  I could make excuses and say that my body is trying to acclimate after having been in training mode for various races since basically February of '11...but it's consistent from year to year.  As soon as Halloween hits, look out!
I've read a few scary statistics lately, one of which is that people expect to gain a few lbs over the holidays.  The problem?  The weight stays on, which over the course of a few years translates to a 10-15 + lb total weight gain ramping up risk for some serious health issues down the road (heart disease, cancer, diabetes, to name a few).  No one is immune to the risks.

The other alarming trend I read about yesterday, is that the average American's weight perception has changed a great deal since the early 1990's.   Back in '91, men had a self reported average weight of 180 lbs, with their "ideal" weight at 171.  For women, it was 142 and 129, respectively.  Fast forward to 2011 and men report that their weight now is up to 196 (16 lb gain!) and their "ideal" weight is now up to 181 - almost exactly what they were dissatisfied with in 1991!  For women, they're now up to 160 lbs (18 lb gain!), with a self reported "ideal" weight of 138...only 4 lbs less than what they were back in '91.

Are we becoming so used to carrying around the extra weight that slowly we're becoming ok with it?  And - just a side note- has anyone else noticed that clothing manufacturers have changed their sizing methods?  I'm convinced that a woman's size 4 today was a size 8 twenty years ago.  Smart by the manufacturer...but now we're lured into feeling like since we can fit into a smaller size, we must be ok! 

So...my mission this holiday season through winter?  Answer my cravings with good stuff...if I need to snack, I need to reach for fruit, vegetables and whole grain snacks - I'm NOT buying any goodies or making sweets unless absolutely necessary (kid birthday parties, Christmas, etc.).  Consequently, I'll also be paying attention to how I feel physically and mentally as I always find the winter difficult on my psyche.  Should be an interesting experiment!

Fruitcake?  No thanks.

I'd like a half cup of tomato paste, please.

So yesterday I noticed in the news there were quite a few headlines regarding congress and the decision to label pizza as a "vegetable", or more specifically, the tomato paste on pizza.  About two tablespoons-worth.

Initially, the USDA wanted to classify a vegetable serving size of tomato paste as 1/2 cup, way too much for just a slice of pizza...so that would mean pizza would no longer meet the qualifications of a federally funded school lunch program (which says kids need a specific # of servings of vegetables per meal).

Enter Congress:  I'll refrain from getting into politics, or other "conspiratorial" opinions...but I'll just say, darn, those lobbyists from frozen foods companies are goooooood.

I'm not really sure what else to say, I'm not even sure "outrageous" even comes close to how absurd this whole thing is.  I get that tomato paste was once partly a real vegetable (or fruit, for you tomato purists) and therefore contains some vitamins or other benefits.  But as we all know, it's not just tomato paste you're eating on a pizza - you're eating highly processed pizza dough and greasy, fat laden dairy cheese along with it.  Can you seriously look me in the eyes and say those two things have health benefits without emitting a giggle or outright laugh?  I liken it to babying your car - getting it detailed, tuned up, new tires and then ramming it into a fertilizer truck.  Or maybe saving up all your money buying a whole new wardrobe, then shredding everything as soon as you get home.  Or better yet, buy a new house then set fire to it.  Hopefully the water you left running in the bathroom kept that part of the house from burning down.  That was smart thinking. 

Just because you ate some tomato sauce on bread with cheese doesn't mean the entire thing is healthy...and calling it a "vegetable" so that you can mislead kids or even parents into thinking they're doing themselves a favor is pretty darn reckless, especially in light of the fact it's now recommended kids as young as nine need to be screened for high cholesterol. 

Sheesh. 

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Footnote:  found the following "quotes" which bear sharing from Inside Scoop SF

• “Got it, everyone? Your kids can continue stuffing their faces with as much frozen pizza as they want now. It’s essentially the same thing as eating celery.” — Gawker
• “I only hope that jellybeans continue to enjoy protected legume status.” — Gawker comments
• “Thinking about planting pizza in my garden next spring, now that Congress says it is a vegetable. Anyone know where I can buy pizza seeds? — Leo Thomas McGarry

Boo, Humbug.

Forgive me, but I hate Halloween. 

Yes, yes, I know - I'm the Scrooge of Halloween...I hate that my kids expect to purchase a new costume every year that they wear once and then crinkle up in a pile on the floor until it's eventually put away never to see the light of day again.  I hate all the scads of candy they "work hard" to collect, then expect to be able to eat in one fell swoop.  I hate that after they binge on said candy they act as if they're wild animals - one minute high as kites, the next whiny, out of control sugar-crashed messes.

That said, I do actually like seeing how excited and proud they are to don their new costumes (likely the reason I break down and purchase new each year).  I like seeing how excited they get about the whole thing - and how they start honing their bargaining skills by counting, sorting and categorizing their stash - then negotiating trades with their siblings and cousins.  Kid #1 gets even more popular;  everyone wants first dibs on the dairy-allergic kid...she has quite the bargaining power when it comes to switching out her chocolate candy for non-dairy stuff.


Anyway - I wish we could do all this with less junk...and not have a major rebellion.  All year I work hard at keeping candy and other garbage to a minimum with my kids - only to be completely derailed once October 31st arrives...and then it takes until seemingly the New Year to detox!  I actually had the audacity to tell them they could pick 10 pieces of candy to keep, and that we'd send the rest overseas to our troops...Kid #1 cried.  Hard.  Sheesh.

I get it.  Kids like treats - we all do.  But I struggle with the fact that this stuff has zero nutritional value - and the fact my kids still have a lot of growing and developing to do...I only want them to put the good stuff in, to ensure everything develops the right way...I'm certainly not saying they can't ever have a treat, but 1-2x/day EVERY day is too much in my opinion.  My thought is, we do a heckofalot of damage to ourselves when we're younger...only to pay the price when we're older.  Isn't it my job as their mom to make certain they grow up healthy?

So - I caved and let them pick 20 pieces to keep.  I got a little flak, but they understood why.  I hope that by continually talking to them about my reasons why I don't let them just eat whatever will stick someday...and those 20 pieces go PDQ...I'd like to make it to Thanksgiving already out of the mode of expecting a sweet treat after dinner every night...just in time for pumpkin pie. 

Jimmy Kimmel's Challenge "I told my kids I ate all their Halloween candy"...Quite possibly the best "Halloween" challenge ever issued...and the kids at the end are priceless. 

Marine Corps Marathon

This past weekend is one I'll never forget.  I went through the gambit of emotions leading up to and through this weekend - I'm incredibly grateful to have been able to experience the whole thing.  You never know what you're capable of until you push yourself past a point you'd ordinarily say "Uncle"...I had quite a few moments like that - particularly when I smashed up against the dreaded and very real "wall" you might hear marathoners talk about...

The weather on Saturday certainly didn't help to buoy our spirits in anticipation of the Marine Corps Marathon the following day...cold, rainy and snow dotting the sky at times...and everything looked gray.  I contemplated throwing in the towel - I'd done all the training, the race was just the icing on the cake - I can live without icing, right?  Not if my kids were around - which 2 out of 3 were - so I couldn't back down now.  On with the show...

Sunday am, met my brother in law Eric at 6am in the lobby of the hotel - no sign of rain, and I was nearly esctatic...we made a friend from West Virginia as we were walking out the door, shared a cab to the "Foggy Bottom" Metro station and squished into a fully packed train to the Pentagon.  Everyone was buzzing - my favorite part of any race - so my sprits were continually being lifted out of the funk from the day prior...we're really going to do this!

After we squeezed our way off the train, we followed the crowd as diligent lemmings do and walked for quite a while, trying to stay on sidewalks and the road so we wouldn't get our shoes wet or muddy in the grass...after a while we made it to a huge parking lot with porta-potties lining both sides - and as experience dictated, got right in line...I wasn't too terribly cold at this point - I layered up as best I could with "throw-away" clothes I'd eventually ditch at the starting line.  To whomever invented "hot hands":  you are a genius and I hope you are ridiculously rich...those little things kept my hands toasty warm all the way up through mile 7 when I finally pitched them!

Anyway, after I said good luck to Eric (who was on his way to the first corral) and squeezed in the corral with the rest of the 4:10-4:30 goal-timers I was feeling pretty good.  In fact, I was kind of dancing to the beat of the music I was listening to - but don't be fooled - it was all due to nervous energy...and the best part is that I didn't care how ridiculous I looked because I'd likely never see the handful of people around me again.  My toes and balls of my feet had now turned numb...which was a bit concerning, but didn't want to dwell on it too much.  A seemingly eternity later, we were on the move...and as we got to the actual starting line the crowd around me erupted into a big cheer as we all embarked on our 26.2 mile journey around Washington D.C.

I can't really say much about the length of the race itself, only tidbits here and there - Seeing my husband and 2 kids around mile 5, enjoying the scenery from 5-7, enjoying the Marines cheering for us at every mile marker, with everyone responding with a big cheer back (until about mile 10...then the cheers were sparse and small)...hearing the sneaker-patter against the pavement and thinking it sounded like soft raindrops on the roof, having to go to the bathroom from about mile 6 on (and since there was a long line at every porta-potty available, decided to keep pushing on), reaching the half marathon mark and attempting to mentally gear up for a "whole new race", feeling my hamstrings get progressively tighter right around mile 13, FINALLY stopping to use the porta-potty at mile 14 and losing 4 minutes in the process...

Then...the dreaded wall.  Mile 17.  When the thought came into my mind:  "This is STUPID".  It was a complete mental battle thereafter - I wanted to quit.  The next medic tent was mine - they could call Mike, he'd pick me up and we could call it a day.  No harm done. 

No.  I couldn't quit.  I had to save face - all my splits were being posted on Facebook & Twitter (did that on purpose because I knew I'd need the extra motivation), I couldn't quit in front of my kids...just keep going.  One foot in front of the other.  Don't be a baby....what ever I could think of, I tried it...being nice, being mean, pleading...reminding myself there are millions of people out there that don't ever get this opportunity...and an especially meaningful quote from a fellow PACER member Cassy Bush, "Chemotherapy is way harder than 26.2 miles".

Stopping to stretch a few times, I kept getting more and more disappointed I was losing ground with my time - but I had to stop and walk as well - my legs were so stiff and my feet were hurting - I thought for sure walking would feel better...and it did for a bit, but after a while running felt better...so I walked and ran, but kept putting one foot in front of the other - still waging war with myself in my own head...

Eventually got over the bridge into Crystal City - gobbled down a few chocolate munchkins (DELICIOUS but hard to eat when you have cotton mouth) and willed myself forward...mile 24, mile 25!  ONE MILE LEFT!  Oh crap!  One mile still to go!  Keep going...you can run this in...no more walking, no more stretching...RUN!

Our expressions upon seeing "the hill"

Finally - mile 26...only two tenths of a mile to go...but it's...uphill!  I knew it would be uphill, but I had no idea how BIG that hill would look!  So I put my head down, gathered up whatever I had left and ran up the hill...crested the top, saw the actual finish line and immediately broke into tears...Ugh...but that finish line was such an incredible sight, I'm pretty sure it's a vision I'll remember for the rest of my life.  Crossing over that line - having pushed myself mentally & physically as much as I did, was an experience I'll be forever grateful for. 

As I and the rest of the finishers around me shuffled through the chute, we received a foil blanket, a medal and photos were taken to commemorate our experience...while ordinarily I'd have loved to relish the moment, all I wanted was to find my family - and sit down.  I'm pretty sure these marathon planners include LOTS of walking in the grand scheme of the finish line to ensure we keep moving lest we stop, sit, and never get back up again. 

After an eternity, I made it up and out to the top where the runners and spectators could finally mingle and I heard Mike's voice - I looked over and saw my family and promptly broke into tears again...vowing "never" to do "this again".  Mike just laughed, gave me a hug, and all was right with the world. 

Until I tried to sit down.

Let's just say it's now day 4 post-race and I'm finally able to walk down the stairs without holding onto the railing for dear life.


Finished, and with a happy hug from kid #2

All in all, I'm pretty happy overall - I beat my first marathon time (11 years ago) by 40 minutes, and I'm glad I was able to talk myself out of quitting...and...even though I said never again...hmmm....