Nothing Unhealthy–Day 4

It started off a little rough.  Mostly in part to the fact that due to the distractions of two melting down toddlers, I temporarily forgot that I was even doing this challenge – thus I was already sitting and eating my unmeasured bowl of cereal before I realized (mid-bite, mind you) what I was doing.  Oh yes.  What I was doing was shoveling in heaping spoonful's of Life at an alarmingly frustrated pace, while shooting annoyed glances at tweedle-dee and tweedle-deedee.  Then I said “oops”.  And I sat chewing for a minute.  Then I shrugged my shoulders and said “the heck with it.”  Then I proceeded shoveling.  I’m not saying it was a gargantuan bowl.  I’m just sayin’ that if you were walking by my kitchen table, and your peripheral vision was intact, you wouldn’t necessarily miss it.  That’s all I’m sayin. 

Anyway.

The day got much better and much more disciplined. This is what I have to report to you – and it’s all GOOD stuff. For a change. Try to contain your shock and awe. I know.

Menu De Jour:

Breakfast: Cereal of unknown portion

Lunch: Chopped Romaine, Tomatoes, Red Onion, Avocado, blackberries 

& a small portion of salmon fillet with 2 tbls of light balsamic dressing.  Delish!

PM Snack: five strawberries and a small handful of almonds

Dinner: Chicken curry with rice and fresh veggies prepared lovingly and in a low-fat manner by my wonderful AB.  

Thanks babe! Totally yum.

Good things to report:

• I have not had a coke or any coke product since Saturday night.  Don’t lets ruin that fact by the telling of the side-affects of said discipline.  Oh dear Gawd.  It's detox folks...plain and simple.  Ugly.

• I had a very healthy lunch and I actually really enjoyed it.  Who knew?

•  I had a healthy afternoon snack and it totally kept me going.  A good mix of healthy sugar and protein and some salt for good behavior.

• I had a healthy dinner in which I was so content after my semi-small portion, that I was able to pass on any seconds.  That shocked even me.  

• I STARTED COUCH 2 5K!  Of this, I am the most proud.  But people…let me tell you…

First of all – kill me.  Seriously.  I think we can safely rule out the 5K part.  I have no intentions of running any marathons.  No.  None.  Not one.  So let’s put that little golden nugget in the display case: CHRISTIE WILL NOT BE RUNNING A 5K.  Ahem. (there’s always time to prove myself wrong, but for now, let’s admire the nugget.)

So anyway, It starts with a five minute brisk warm up walk.  That went fine, except for the fact that my IPOD crapped out three minutes in and I lost my mojo as House of Pain’s “Jump Around” faded out and left me high and dry.  {shakes fist in air}  Then came the first set of running for 60 seconds.  Which actually, if I’m being honest, did not put me in a shallow grave.  I made it.  I survived.  Nothing caught on fire, if you catch my drift.  Before I knew it, my gal pal and newfound accountability Couch 2 5K partner gave me the sign that we could stop running and walk for 90 seconds.  Sweet mother!  This wasn’t so bad after all!  La la la la la….I’m walking.  I just ran for 60 seconds and no one is meeting with a funeral director!  Tra lalalalala.  And then my 90 seconds was up and the hand-signal came and off we went, running again.  And so it went…

By the third set of running, I was feeling some side-affects that I believed were potentially problematic.  For instance, I had a sort of…I don’t know…burning in my legs.  Sort of akin to..I don’t know…muscle atrophy.  Or rigamortis.  You go ahead and take your pick.  There was also the fact that I was not wearing a sports-bra.  I’ll let your imagination do the rest on that one.  There was a bit of an oxygen problem as well.  As in, I wasn’t getting any.  That is to say, I was breathing – or at least going through the motions of breathing as I understand it to work - but the only sensation I had was severe chest pain, lungs burning like an 80 year old chain smoker, and finally a tunnel of white light beckoning to me.  There was that.  Which would have scared me I guess, were it not for the quasi 911 worthy side-cramp forming near my rib cage.  So…yeah.

By the fourth set of running, I was blaspheming all things related to this challenge and contemplating the long-term side affects of having a breathing apparatus permanently attached to my chest wall cavity.  I was cursing Couch 2 5K.  I was ready to write letters to every health-nut in America.  Not the nice letters.  The other kind of letters.  I was sort of walking/limping along and my pal had long since sprinted ahead.  Sadly for her, she had to circle back umpteen times to me.  Every time she would signal for a running set, I would wave her on…telling her to go ahead…I’d catch up (never), and off she would go and back she’d run to me for the walking sets and so it went.  Go on, I urged her.  Save yourself.  This is a dying field.  This right here is where the out of shape people meet their demise.  This portion of the sidewalk is consuming me, whole, one broken-down body part at a time.

Graciously, she never gave up on me, but encouraged me to keep trying and reminding me what a great thing it was to even attempt it.  That the point was getting off the couch.  That the goal was incorporating exercise, not running a 5K.

And actually, aside from muffling my own sobs of joy when her house came back into sight, and the overwhelming urge to flag down all passing vehicles for a trip to the emergency room – I’m pretty proud of myself.  I walked/ran 1 1/2 miles today.  Which is more than I can say for yesterday, or the day before that, or the month before that, or the year before that.  Somebody applaud.  I would, but my arms are taking the brunt of my inability to walk even a few feet without making whimpering sounds – thus the crawling on my hands and knees all afternoon.  It’s fine.  I’ll be fine.  No really, I'm fine.  {cough} Everything is just fine.  I just need like a week…maybe a month…to get over it.  Then I can attempt round two of Couch 2 5K.  Or on Friday.  Whichever, I guess.