learning to embrace the impromptu.

 I have a confession. Yours truly, the queen of meal planning, logging miles and taking at least an hour to make my grocery list, exercise schedule and "life plan" for the week, is writing to you today with absolutely none of the above figured out. I am plan-less. [Enter famous SVU "dun dun!" here]

I've been complaining (who, me? never) nonstop lately about how I need a break. How I need to stop focusing so much on input versus output, calories, miles, points and bootcamps, and just take a moment to breathe and enjoy life. Fortunately, I was given that opportunity this weekend. My best friend got married (yay!), and in addition to all the wonderful things that come along with weddings, celebrating and the whirlwind that is "I do," it was also such a blessing to my obsessive compulsive exercise and eating tendencies. Food became secondhand to catching up with old friends and helping my best friend and her brand new husband celebrate in style, and I was given the ultimate test: implementing my healthy attitude WITHOUT planning ahead first.

I'm pleased to say that, despite the delicious cake and one macaroni and cheese mistake at Panera, I successfully made the right choices, got a 9-mile run in on Saturday morning and managed to come out of the weekend unscathed. I took yesterday to rest and recoup, and got back to my morning runs this morning. We ate relatively well last night, despite not having grocery shopped all weekend and having NO meal plan for the week, and I'm not recovering from a weekend-long hangover. Apparently miracles do really happen.

But I learned a lot this weekend, both from my friend's wedding and from my own experience with eating and exercise. Proper planning and preparation, paired with some flexibility and willingness to embrace the impromptu, will result in boatloads of success with a relatively sane frame of mine. Obsessing, worrying and trying to control the uncontrollable? You guessed it - gets you absolutely nowhere except rocking in the fetal position in the corner of a mental hospital. Seriously.

There were so many things that could have gone wrong this weekend - weather being the scariest of these - and the beautiful bride learned that there are bigger and more important things than whether or not it rained on her big day. No one was there to binge drink bottles of wine on a patio in the sun - they were there to watch their friends get married, and that can be done in rain, snow or shine. As it turned out, the weather was absolutely beautiful - sunny, and cool enough to make their outdoor wedding the perfect setting to start their new life together. And what would worrying about the rain have done? Sent her into a downward spiral of panicky emotions, of course.

She had a flower mishap that, given time to think about it ahead of time, would have made her crazy. But considering she faced the situation head on and couldn't take time to panic or obsess over what choice she'd make, she just acted. She made a decision, and made the best with what she was given - and ended up loving it better than her original arrangement. Sometimes, it's best to not sit back and predict any and every small thing that could go awry. Sometimes, all you can do is prepare and plan as best you can, and let the cards fall where they may.

The same can be said for your eating and exercise habits. I had panicked thinking about how I'd handle this weekend - how I'd get my exercise in, what choices I'd make at restaurants, how much alcohol I'd drink. But when put right in the moment, there was no time to think. I made the best decisions I could - chose things I knew to be good for me, including a super early morning wakeup call for a 9 mile run before our busy day started, and in the end, I came out on top, both mentally and physically. I also allowed myself to put MY healthy lifestyle second to celebrating my friend's big day. Moments like that don't come but once in a lifetime, and there was no way I was going to miss out just because I "couldn't eat there," or "had to go home and run." In doing so, though, it was a true test as to how I'd act in the moment. And I'm so proud to say that I still made the right choices.

For the past couple weeks, I've been worrying about how I'd handle the entire summer. With her wedding, my birthday, the Fourth of July, my bridal shower and bachelorette party, it's safe to say that wedding season is in full force, and with that comes so many delicious meals and celebrations. But this weekend was proof that you really can have your cake and eat it too - you just have to log some serious miles to do it. But the extra exercise I'll put in is more than worth it to enjoy the time spent with the people I care about - enjoying my life IN the moment and not worrying about what the scale will say the next day.

Here's to living, eating and running in this beautiful life that is, right now, full of so many wonderful changes and absolute perfections. And the biggest congratulations to my very best friend and her very best friend on the biggest and most important day of their lives :) Here are some of my favorites from this weekend's festivities!

 

 

margaritas, bootcamps and brand new things.

In true Ohio summer fashion, it was a hot and humid weekend. Not only was it the first official weekend of summer, but it was probably the one and only weekend Rob and I will spend without some kind of itinerary to follow until the end of August. As summer officially begins, the next few months will bring so many big moments - my best friend marries her best friend next weekend, I turn 27 (another year "closer to 30"), and we begin wedding festivities for our big day. All the ideas, Pinterest pins and planning are finally going to come to fruition, and I can't wait to spend the entire summer surrounded by friends and family. 

On the homefront, I'm finding that there's so much to be thankful for. As I continue to truck along this "journey" to being the most healthy "me" that I can be (seriously, it's beginning to feel a little more like Oregon Trail than just a cute little journey), I'm trying to take time to recognize the moments I'm fortunate enough to have with friends and family who support this healthy lifestyle. The group of girls I've grown close to over the course of the past few months have been so influential in my recent success - new classes, seemingly impossible bootcamps and girls' nights that don't have to involve deep fried food and beers are so much easier when you're surrounded by life-minded people who both provide motivation and feed off the positive energy you exude. Despite the way-too-many margaritas a couple of us drank this weekend, I have no doubts that come tomorrow, I'll be back to being held accountable for my eating choices and signing up for workouts to keep us going through the week. Weight loss and staying healthy in a society that makes deep fried macaroni and cheese so readily available (yes, I ate some today) is such a challenge - surrounding yourself with the right people is instrumental to your success, no doubt about it.

That seemingly impossible bootcamp I got the guts to try? Hurts. So. Good. Saturday morning at 10:15 a.m., and the temperature in my car already read 82 degrees outside, which is just oh-so-perfect for an outdoor bootcamp. Not. From the moment we set off on our warmup jog, I knew I'd be driving the struggle bus the entire hour. From running up hills multiple times to box jumps, planks and the hardest tricep dips this world has ever seen, we sweat through the hour together, encouraged one another and kept telling ourselves that this hour would merit the drinks to be had later. Hard does not begin to explain that hour. But I wanted, and still want, a challenge, and I have no doubt I'll be back the next chance I get. 

Post-bootcamp, feeling sweaty and strong, and ready for recovery salads at Piada!

As the upcoming week is upon us, I've made an attempt at making it as easy as possible. It'll be a busy week for both of us, and the easier I can make the eating and exercise plan, the better off I'll be. I tried my hand at making my own salad dressing this week, something I've never done before. I know it's simple, but buying a bottle at the grocery store is even easier. I have been struggling on the lunch front (still) and needed something easy and delicious that would last me all week. I adapted my salad (and dressing) from this recipe over at Garden Grazer - it's a Southwestern chopped salad with a creamy cilantro lime dressing. I love cilantro. I love lime. And when I made this dressing tonight, even Rob got excited to eat salads all week (yes, really). I didn't have white vinegar so I just omitted it, and I totally used more lime juice than what the recipe calls for, but mannnn this shit is delicious. I pre-prepped black beans, corn, romaine lettuce, tomatoes and avocado to assemble throughout the week, and tomorrow I'll grill some chicken to throw in too. Can. Not. Wait.

This week involves lots of wedding festivities for my best friend, wedding planning on my own and meals need to be as simple as possible. Also, in an attempt to improve our grocery budget, I've also made attempts at utilizing ingredients in multiple recipes throughout the week. Here's what's going on:

Sunday

BLT wraps with avocado (this has become a staple for us - a delicious, fresh staple)

Monday

Crockpot buffalo chicken sandwiches, vegetables

6 mile run, Turbokick

Tuesday

Emily Bites "Pizza Logs" (first use of egg roll wrappers this week!)

Turbo Circuit

Wednesday

Buffalo Chicken Rolls (using leftover buffalo chicken, second use of egg roll wrappers!)

Zumba and/or run

Yes, those are the only things I have planned this week. The end of the week will be filled with probably two more runs, but dinners will be out and I'll have to do my best to eat and exercise accordingly. So excited to celebrate all these wonderful things in the upcoming months, and I hope I can take time to focus on the moments of happiness and make food secondhand to the celebration (food, secondhand? I know, seems like a suicide mission). 

Oh, and I have been low on good things to blog about. I've done my best to stop bitching about stuff I cannot control (ie, stupid grocery shoppers and bad drivers), but I'm 100% open to writing about things YOU want to hear about. So if there's something you're interested in, let me know! In the meantime, I'll keep talking about food. Shocking. 

Have a great week, friends!!

mind and body: the ultimate goal isn't a number.

Every day, I plan. I plan out my meals, my snacks, my exercise and my points. I think in terms of Weight Watchers points, carbohydrates and sugars. Almost every day, I exercise. I think in terms of input versus output, calories burned, heart rates and the number of "Activity Points" I've earned. Every Monday, I do damage control on what is inevitably always a weekend of overdoing it on eating out somewhere (or multiple places). In addition to my budgeted amount of money per week allowed for groceries, I am also thinking in terms of dinners planned - planning to ensure I do not eat carb or point-heavy meals the night before a weigh-in, making sure vegetables and fruits are washed and chopped, and setting aside a few extra minutes each morning to make sure I've got everything together for work. Inevitably, I always end up leaving something at home. It's usually my 32 oz water bottle I bring to make sure I get my daily 64 ounces of water in during my 8-hour workday. 

Every day, I need gym clothes clean. I need my pink "13.1" headband and the good gym socks from my drawer, not the thin ones from high school with the monkeys on them. I either run at least 3 miles in the morning, run at night or do a heavy cardio, bootcamp or strength style class in the evenings. One day out of the week is usually a long run of 6 miles or longer. In addition, I usually walk the dogs at least 3 times a week - never anything less than 1.5 miles. Usually 3. 

Every morning, I step on the scale. I cannot stop. I tell myself at night that I won't weigh myself tomorrow morning. I won't be a daily weigher. I'll just step on the scale on my designated weigh-in day, record it and move on. But every day, I lose the battle. Every day that the scale does not show a loss - even an ounce - is a day I get frustrated. A day I look in the mirror and wonder if I look heavier. Wonder if my jeans are tight because they just came out of the dryer or because I'm gaining weight. Every day,  I ask Rob if my outfit looks okay, if this top is flattering or if my legs look awful in these shorts. Every. Day. 

Every week I gain weight or maintain is another week I question what I'm doing wrong. Every processed starch, every cookie, every piece of coffee cake is a moment that lingers in the back of my head for the rest of the day. Individually, they are a single choice. But history has told me that together, those choices are what caused a lifetime of weight gain and personal unhappiness with my body. Those choices, together, are the most frightening things in my life. 

I'm telling you this because on the outside, it looks like I'm easily the most disciplined person on the face of the planet. It looks like I'm really on the ball, and the weight loss proves that to an extent, I guess I am. But what it has done to my current frame of mind lately is something that weighs heavier on me than all the extra weight I had in the first place. 

I've always been fairly restless. I'm always itching, always pushing for something more. New car, second dog, this vacation, travel here, organize this party, new dress. More. To an extent, that's probably a good thing. But lately, I've felt tension in my mind between the part of me that wants so badly to lose these last 10-20 pounds, and the other part of me that screams, "HEY LADY, slow down. You're happy, stop pushing yourself so damn hard. Now go eat that cookie." 

The truth is, I think I'll always look the mirror and wish my legs were thinner, wish I could lose the weight that's still left in my stomach (seriously, it's set up camp) and see flab on my arms. And as a girl who has always pushed for more, more, more, I have a hard time knowing when to quit. In the midst of my constant meal planning, calorie counting and mile running, I've turned myself into someone more self-critical than I was at my heaviest. Not in terms of hating on my body - but in regards to how I approach food and exercise. Missed workouts, french fries and too many margaritas make me feel like a criminal, and eating a sandwich today - the day before my weigh-in - will ultimately result in a gain tomorrow, I'm sure of it.

What I'm saying is that I don't know if I necessarily even want to lose these last pounds. I know I need to, and deep down I know I'd be happier in a smaller pant size. But even deeper down, I know that the pride I once felt by making healthy choices, eating right and exercising is now trumped by my eating and exercise failures, and that's not okay with me. It's time that I seriously refocus, decide what's important to me - 10 more pounds or mental fucking sanity, and take actions that put me on the right path. I'm still trying, like so many are, to balance weight loss with living my life, and the closer I get to my wedding, the more pressure I put on myself when I make poor choices. 

If you asked me 8 months ago if I wanted it bad enough to make sacrifices, put in the early workouts and skip the happy hours, I'd tell you with the utmost confidence, HELL YES. Now? I just don't know. I love the early morning workouts, I love the long runs and the hard bootcamps. I love making healthy eating choices, eating low carb and I know I"m happiest when I'm doing all these things. But I also know that running my mind in vicious circles over my failed attempts, which realistically are just part of life, isn't healthy for my mind either. 

So from this point forward, I vow to focus on a balance between mind and body. No, not yoga (and please, don't suggest it). But a promise to be my own biggest fan and my hardest coach - in the most positive way I can. To understand that life happens between the runs and the skinny meals, that happy hours happen between the salads and the bootcamps. That cheesecake is okay, and so is a 5 a.m. 9 mile run. And to be honest, staying at this weight forever would be okay too. If you saw me for the very first time, you'd think I was overweight and nothing special. But those closest to me know that these jeans, this tank top and this still-flabby stomach is the result of years of hard work and commitment. 

Am I at goal yet? No, probably not. But I'm happy with my progress, and I really need to teach that nasty part of my mind to be happy, too. Once the mind and body can work in harmony with each other, then I'll be at goal, regardless of what the number on the scale says. 

schedules, weddings and ticking clocks.

The closer I get to my wedding, the more and more alerts I get from wedding websites, friends, families and registries. OMG, DID YOU KNOW YOUR WEDDING IS LESS THAN FOUR MONTHS AWAY? Yes, yes I did. I'm also aware of how quickly the clock is ticking down the weeks, days, minutes and seconds for me to find time to drop a size, find a videographer, nail down my menu, address my invitations and pick out which gaudy accessory I'd like in my hair. Yes, yes I am aware.

But because thinking about my "to do" list for the wedding gives me serious anxiety, I'd rather talk to you about exercise, eating and my most recent hot mess called the Redlegs 10k. Because I know you'd rather hear about how I found a way to burn barbecue pulled chicken in the crockpot than how I cannot decide which fish to choose for our reception. God, I hate fish.

Let's start with last weekend. I headed down to Cincinnati with some fabulous ladies to run a 10k that ended on the Cincinnati Reds field. I know, it's pretty kickass. After a horrible night-before prep (I'm sorry, is eating peanut butter and crackers NOT proper pre-race protocol?), I managed to feel pretty prepared and after the first mile, I was feeling awesome. And that's pretty much where awesome ended. Humidity, hills, too few water stations and those fabulous Cincinnati bridges made for the worst 10k of my entire life. I finished about 6 minutes later than what I had typically run on my 10k routes at home, but I suppose the point is that I finished. To be honest, it was the first BAD race I've had in a long time. As I crossed the finish line, I couldn't help but feel that races like that are the ones that define where you go next. The me from previous years probably would have found at least 5 reasons why I should take a break from running. I would have seriously considered not running my half marathon this fall or getting up at 5:00 a.m. to pound the pavement for fun.

It feels good to know my mind is past that point. That I've gotten to the point where I know and understand that bad runs happen, and it doesn't define who you are as a runner or as a person. Sometimes, the odds are just against you. Sometimes, your body just says, "Please, for the love of GOD, stop." Sometimes, it just doesn't work out, no matter how well you prepared. But everyone knows that success is not born from people who fail and quit. It's born from crazies who just keep on keeping on. Eventually, I'll strike gold.

And I did strike gold. This past weekend, I ran a 5k that I run every year in support of one of the local animal shelters. I didn't PR, but the thing I love about running the same race year after year is being able to compare times from previous years. Last year, I finished the race in 42:04, with a pace of 13:41. Saturday, I finished in 33:40, which gives me a pace of 10:50 per mile. That's almost NINE minutes shaved off of just 3.1 miles. NINE. DID YOU HEAR ME? NINE. SAY IT AGAIN.

But between this Saturday's race, dinner with a friend, a night out at the Reds game and an evening of wedding planning and catching up with another good friend, I've started this Monday off feeling unprepared and unorganized. Not cool. As ridiculous as it sounds, I usually take a good hour to budget our upcoming paychecks, meal plan and plan my exercise out. It keeps me sane, and it helps center me as I prepare for the next week. Like yoga for crazy people. I did my meal planning, but feel frazzled as I attempt to tackle the week without a concrete plan for exercise and our budget, on top of really starting to knock things off my wedding to do list and prepare for an upcoming trip to the lake.

As we're nearing the wedding, the need for me to be on a good exercise and eating schedule feels more important than ever. I've finally gotten below my plateau, leaving me with about 10 pounds until me "I'd be happy" place and 15 pounds until the goal I set when I first joined Weight Watchers back in 2009. I've had quite a few people ask me what I've done to lose weight, and as one of my fellow Healthy Habits ladies would say, "Diet and exercise. It really does work." But in an attempt to be more specific, I'm going to try and list my exercise and eating plans here. Hopefully it'll help some of you who are interested get an understanding of what I'm doing (and maybe inspire some new recipes!), and it'll help keep me accountable.

Monday

Breakfast: BetterOats Cinnamon Roll (can't get enough of these!)

Lunch: Leftover grilled chicken w/ buffalo sauce, small salad

Dinner: BBQ pulled chicken sandwiches, roasted asparagus

Workout: Turbo Kick, 1 hour

Tuesday

Breakfast: 1 egg, scrambled, 1 piece of bacon, strawberries

Lunch: Leftover pulled chicken, carrots with greek yogurt dip (OMG, yum). 

Dinner: Emily Bites Thai Chicken Skewers with brown rice 

Workout: A.M. run, 6 miles

Wednesday

Breakfast: BetterOats, strawberries

Lunch: Leftover thai chicken skewers with rice

Dinner: Spaghetti squash with turkey meatballs

Workout: Bootcamp and Zumba (2x day whattttttt)

Thursday

Breakfast: 1 egg, scrambled, 1 piece of bacon, fruit

Lunch: Taco salad (from the local market. Amazing.)

Dinner: Emily Bites California Club Quesadillas 

Workout: Run 4 miles

Friday:

Breakfast: BetterOats, fruit

Lunch: leftover quesadillas 

Dinner: on the road (Boo hiss for fast food. Oh hell, who am I kidding, I love Arby's)

Workout: Run 3 miles

Here's to staying accountable - I've got 111 days until my wedding, which means 111 days to KEEP. MY. SHIT. IN. LINE.

Happy Monday, friends!

i love my former fat girl.

I was scanning old Facebook photos today, looking for a good "Throwback Thursday" photo for Instagram (because clearly I have no valid things I need to be doing). I looked through old photo albums from college and, of course, started thinking back to what a blast those four years were. Despite the fact that I was more than 60 pounds heavier than I am now, and seemingly unhappy, it'd be wrong to sit here and tell you that I was a miserable, lonely fat girl sitting in her bed eating cookies. That's silly. It was macaroni and cheese, not cookies.

No, I'm kidding. But really. Here's today's "Throwback Thursday" picture. 

Also, take that as a shameless plug for you to go follow me on Instagram.

The "after" me, both in the picture and sitting behind this computer, easily looks so much happier than the picture on the left. Incredibly overweight with the most unflattering outfit this world has ever seen (at one point, layers were my friend), one could only assume that since I've now lost the weight, I must have realized how miserable my life was before. How could I have been happy? The before me is "gross," "disgusting," "huge." Pick your stinging adjective. And to an extent, you're right. Was I lonely? At times, sure. But even the skinniest of girls can be lonely. Was I aware of how overweight I was? In some ways, no, and in other ways - probably way more aware than any of you. Am I happier now? Yes - but that's not to say I was miserable then. 

It's easy to look back on your former self and do nothing but self-hate. We're our own worst critics, and pointing out the thousands of flaws in your "before" picture won't make you a better person now. It's healthy to recognize your failures, your weaknesses and the times when you know you could have done better. To look at that photo and know that I've taken that mind and body and transformed it into a healthy, happy, strong one is a good thing. To hate my former self? That's not cool, dude. 

I had fun when I was fat. I went to parties, drank way too much alcohol and stumbled home with my best friends and a basket of chili cheese fries. I stood in line for drunk pizza, had karaoke parties in my apartment and threw themed parties almost every weekend. I went to bars, danced like an idiot and wrote my name in the bathroom stalls. I wore high heels, showed too much cleavage and tried miserably to flirt with boys. I spent most of my college career as a single girl, and loved every minute of it. I taught color guard, built great relationships with high school students - some of whom I still keep in touch with. I shopped, traveled and went on spring break with my best friends. And again, I drank a lot of alcohol. Ate a lot of cheese fries. Danced, slept, happy hour-ed, power hour-ed, ate 3 a.m. diner food and then did it all again. 

In the moment, I loved my life. Do I look back now and see signs of how unhappy I was at times? Sure. I see moments where I hid from life - times when I did bail on the bars to stay home in my pajamas and eat a box of macaroni and cheese. Times when I didn't take the risk because my weight held me back. I hated everything I tried on, and wasn't able to shop at the cute boutiques uptown. But I still loved, laughed, cried and laughed again. 

Loving yourself and your body is such an important part of your weight loss journey. Without it, you'll hit your goal weight and still hate what you see in the mirror. But when you hit your goal - or when you're close, don't hate on your former self. You're stronger, better, healthier and happier today than you were yesterday. But you were never gross, disgusting, huge, fatass or a miserable excuse for a human being, so don't start telling yourself that you were. Your intelligence, your drive and your heart is still the same as it was four dress sizes ago, or before you lost the baby weight. And you ought to embrace that. There's more to me than what pant size I wear, how many miles I've run and how many races I've finished. Those size 18 pants held the same heart I have now, and the same sense of humor that causes me to make an ass out of myself in public - at any size. 

I will not hate my former fat girl. I love my former fat girl. My former fat girl stage was when I met some of my best friends, met people that would eventually lead me to my future husband, and formed one of the best friendships I've ever had with the person who will marry us in September. I had late nights and stories I could tell for days, I got my bachelors degree, visited D.C., Daytona Beach and countless other places. It's when I started blogging, started writing and adopted Scout. I love the shit out of my former fat girl, and I wouldn't throw her under the bus for all the size 6 pants in the world. 

Love the former you, whatever size that may be. And let her (or him) shape you into the future you. You'll never get anywhere without her. 

running, patience and learning to commit.

I woke up at 4:45 a.m. this morning, and there was no turning back. No hitting the snooze button, no rolling over and falling back asleep. No bailing on this morning's run. My best friend was meeting me for a brave 9-10 mile run before work this morning (well, before I had to be at work - she's a teacher and out for summer, so she got up that early for fun). Today was her first time running that far, and I hadn't run that far since my one and only half marathon over two years ago. It was dark, but even at 5:00 a.m. you could tell it was going to be a beautiful morning. We hit the pavement, consistently sticking with a walk/run ratio that has turned out to be the best thing since sliced bread (or cheesecake...or margaritas). As someone who has always preferred to run alone, I'm always pleasantly surprised by how well we run together. With over 20 years of friendship under our belt, it's interesting to see how in tune you become running together, despite being such different runners on our own. The tortoise and the hare could be best friends if they'd just start running together.

At one of our walk breaks, she turned and asked me how I ever fell in love with running. She said I'm the one who got her into running, but we tried to trace it back to the moment I thought beating myself up for miles upon miles would ever be fun. I got chills thinking about it. It's so tacky, and so silly to think about because really, I am hardly a "runner." But I love it, and to think about where it's taken me throughout the past few years makes my heart swell so big it could burst.

I started running when I first signed up for Weight Watchers and desperately assumed that burning a shit ton of calories was the only proven way to lose weight. I hopped on the treadmill at the gym and made up my own Couch to 5k program, sticking with short jog/walk intervals before finally being able to run a full 5k without stopping to walk. Walk breaks were a sign of weakness to me - I wanted to RUN every single minute of that time on the treadmill like those damn gazelles did next to me. When I finally took my running outdoors, I was disappointed to learn that the pavement doesn't work the same was as a treadmill propelling you forward (who knew?) and had to relearn the entire thing all over again. At best, I was running a 12-14 minute mile with the occasional walk break, and I ran my very first 5k in October of 2010 with a finishing time of over 40 minutes. I completed my first (and currently only) half marathon in January 2011 with a finishing time of about 3:01. I've always been a slow runner, and I've always believed that I'd rather run farther than faster.

I took a hiatus from running for almost a year. I couldn't keep loving it - I think because I spent most of 2011 slowly gaining the weight back that I had once lost, and I used it as an excuse not to run. It wasn't until the beginning of this year that I stumbled out onto the pavement for run on an unusually warm January day. Having incorporated a lot of strength training into my workouts, I was surprised how easy my 3 mile run was. The 5k runs I've done this year are least 3-7 minutes faster than the ones from last year, and we managed to complete today's 9.42 miles with a pace of about 11:30.

So why am I telling you all this? I know that somewhere, I've blogged about it before. I'm telling you because people see "9 miles" on my Facebook status and think I just woke up one day and decided to run 3 consecutive 5k races. They want to love running like I love running now, and want to know how I ever thought running 9 miles before 7 a.m. would be fun. Truth be told, it just is. There's something deeply motivating about knowing that you can always do more. You're never done - even if you're a regular marathon runner, you know you're constantly challenging yourself. Beat your last time, run the extra mile, try new run/walk methods. The possibilities for running are endless, and your success is limitless. Nevermind the fact that I find running completely therapeutic, it's the one and only physical activity that has continued to challenge me over the years. No one is born a gazelle, and I've learned that even basset hounds can rack up some miles - if they really want to.

And that's what it comes down to. Deciding how bad you really want it - and in order to do that, it has to become personal for you. As someone who teetered in that "I want to lose weight, so I'm going to start doing things that everyone around me is doing to lose weight" phase for years of my life, I can tell you straight up that what works for someone else won't necessarily work for you. There is no better path carved from scratch than the one you create on your journey to becoming happy and healthy. You may need more or less rest days than someone else. You may hate running. You may hate working out at home, big over-populated gyms full of douchebags and flax seed.

And when you find something that you do like - or that you think you'll like, please don't give up on it. If your body is miserable and you are so mad at yourself for only being able to run to the end of your street, keep trying. Do not think you have to run the entire time, and do not think that somewhere, a gazelle-like runner didn't start in the same place you are. Once you decide you're going to commit to running, you'll keep running farther than you did the last time - and when that happens and you get that rush of power, motivation and strength - that's when you know you've found something you'll love. You don't have to love it right away, but you have to give it a chance. Understand that it takes time to build up stamina, strength and commitment. It takes energy, focus and determination to make something work for you. You won't wake up and run 10 miles your first shot out. You will fail, stumble, face plant and cut your hand open (not like that happened to me or anything), and at some point, you'll hate it. It's what you do at that point that defines your relationship with it - and it's usually at that point that it becomes personal.

Decide what you want. Commit to what you love and understand that building a relationship with a lifestyle change, a diet or an exercise routine is no different than building a relationship with another person. You have to get to know each other, figure out what works for you and compromise. Sometimes you push yourself even though you don't want to, because you know it'll be good for you. Sometimes you bail and eat cheesecake because you know you need that, too. And you'll have good days and bad days. After the most miserable 10k of my life, I was doubting signing up for my half this fall, and had even bigger doubts about potentially signing up for a second one. I beat myself up, thought I had failed and wished I wasn't so damn fat still. Then this morning, I had the most redeeming run of my life and bam, you're back in love. Fights with running, or any form of exercise, will happen. Fights with yourself over diet and choices will exist. But just like you commit to the person you love, you don't just walk away. You don't turn your back on what's good for you. You get mad, eat some feelings and come back and work that shit out. Because you're an adult, and you know what's good for you. And part of being an adult is taking responsibility for your health and your life. Push yourself, commit to it and DO. NOT. GIVE. UP.

Find out what you love, and what you want, and then be in a full time relationship with it. Treat it like you would a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, or best friend. Nurture it, protect it and take care of it. Don't put it on the back burner, and don't turn your back on it. Always be in its corner, and it'll always be in yours. And one day, you'll wake up and run 9 miles and never know what you did without it.

the truth behind before and afters.

Everyone loves a success story. Everyone loves a before and after picture of someone who has lost weight, transformed their body, found happiness and gained strength. We all like to see a finished product - the proof that someone was able to make it, to hit a goal and to do what so many of us feel like we cannot do. Our Pinterest boards are littered with motivational quotes, links to weight loss bloggers and pictures of healthy paleo recipes we may never even try. We're roped into diet fads, weight loss programs and gym memberships using those catchy photos of a woman who lost 50 pounds and looks like a rock star. The woman always looks absolutely miserable in her before shot, and always ends up dripping in optimism and smiles in her after photo. We're attracted to success, and to people who make us feel like those before and after pictures could be us one day, too.

Well, pull up a chair, kids. Because I'm going to tell you all about what goes on behind the scenes of those pretty before and after shots we're all so fascinated with. Making a commitment to losing weight and getting healthy is hard, and being open about it with friends, family and strangers is often harder. And once someone decides to make a positive change in their life, all people seem to see is the strength and confidence that comes with that. But what most people don't understand is that usually, there are several moments of defeat, of weakness and of insecurity that break us down before we are able to be built up.

To be honest, there are years of insecurity, tears and hiding half my body behind my friends in photos in my life. There are years of coming home in tears after a day at school because people made fun of me on the bus and called me fat. There are even more years of hearing guys make snide remarks about my weight at bars or on the streets, despite the fact that I felt beautiful in my new outfit before leaving my house those nights. There are years of being the "funny one," and the girl with the "pretty face." There are years of idly sitting by and watching my weight spiral out of control, years of watching my friends get hit on instead of me, years of feeling absolutely awful about myself getting ready next to my "skinny" and therefore more beautiful friends (funny, how the mind works).

Having been overweight most of my life, I cannot tell you the last time I weighed what I do now. I would have to hunt back through doctor's records from my pediatrician, seriously. For as long as I can remember, I've been the fat friend. The fat family member, the fattest of all my boyfriends' friends' girlfriends. I've spent my life automatically going to the back of a rack for size XL in a department store, and I spent every year of high school in tears on my bed after dress shopping for homecoming, prom and winter dance. My shopping trips involved buying anything that would fit me properly, instead of looking for things I actually liked. It involved dodging plus size stores and always wearing cardigans or sweaters that covered the rolls on my stomach that tank tops couldn't hide. On the plus side, it involved years of binge drinking in bars and only worrying about having fun with my friends, knowing full well I wouldn't be attracting the attention of a man. It involved buying designer handbags and shoes because I knew I couldn't outgrow those things.

Despite committing to getting healthy over four years ago, I am still not at goal. My entire process has been consumed by calories, points, carbs, fibers and sugars. My life has been, and will always be, a constant struggle to find balance in the life I knew versus the life I live now. I cannot go into a restaurant and eat mindlessly like I used to, always knowing now that what I eat will require "x" number of miles ran in the morning or a serious ass-kicking at bootcamp. I cannot eat in public without watching others so carelessly enjoy their dinners. I cannot go into Starbucks and watch high school girls order double chocolate chip venti frappuccinos without wanting to grab them by the shoulders and scream, "You realize how awful these are for you?!" I cannot work out in the morning and spend the rest of my day without the itch that I should do something after work to burn more calories. I feel guilty for eating ice cream, and I cannot give myself a break for eating out. I may not always make the right choices, but the guilt that lingers behind every bite of fried macaroni and cheese or every missed workout is something I really wouldn't wish on anyone.

And the worst part of all of it, is that I cannot look at myself in the mirror and be happy yet. Despite having lost over 60 pounds, I cannot see arms that are more toned, a smaller stomach and muscular legs. I cannot see a more defined jaw line and no double chin. For whatever reason, I cannot even see a size medium instead of a size XL. I see puckering buttons, arm fat and plenty of work that lies ahead.

I am proud of how far I've come. And I do not post any of this because I need someone to tell me how proud they are of me and what I've done with my life and my body. I post this because this is the part that they don't tell you. Losing weight and getting healthy will not solve your body issues. It will not suddenly make you as confident as you thought your roommates were in college. It will not automatically make you immune to snide remarks and fat jokes. And most importantly, losing weight does not always equal the perfect equation for loving yourself and your body. There's more at work than just your body dropping sizes. There is more at play than you making one choice to forego the extra beer. Somewhere, there is a person - a heart, a soul and a mind - trying to come to grips with becoming an entirely different person on the outside and inside.

I don't want people to look at someone's before and after photos and think it's as simple as some workouts and eating better. Yes, to make the changes on the outside, there are definite concrete solutions. There are bootcamps, miles to run and "clean" meals to make. There are weight loss programs, support groups and like-minded friends who will help you along the way. But the real struggle - the compulsiveness you discover when you watch people mindlessly eating at Chipotle and you can't help but wonder if they know how many calories they're consuming, or if that's their one "cheat" meal during the week and you wish you could be that free - that's the part no one talks about. No one talks about the years of bullying, and the fact that you were always at prom feeling a little less beautiful than the other girls. And it's important to realize that just because you've lost weight, doesn't mean those moments you wished didn't exist will automatically go away.

I 100% urge you to make the decision to be healthy. Lose the weight now, seriously. And to be honest, I wouldn't trade my compulsiveness in a restaurant or the difficulty of turning down the extra beer for all the mindless eating in the world. It's made me more aware, and less ignorant of my body. But what I also urge you to do is understand that losing weight is not a before and after picture. If you've struggled your whole life, it will continue to be a lifetime of choices, of weighing the good against the bad, the cheesecake against the run and the wine against the bootcamp. It will be a lifetime of trying to find balance, of knowing you're probably working a little harder than someone who has been naturally thin their whole life and hasn't seen the inside of a gym in years.

It will be a lifetime of knowing that there were years of tears, fights with mom in the department store because she insists that Spanx would help that dress be more flattering and you can't bear to try one on. It will be a lifetime of knowing you were made fun of, and that there are people in the world who will measure you by the size of your pants and not your character. But on the flip side, it will be future years of knowing you overcame that. It will be years of knowing what's good for you, and being able to lead others in the same direction. It will be years of helping redefine how we see women and how we want our daughters to look at their bodies and their health. It will be years of encouraging our friends and family to walk with us, run 5k races and try bootcamps. It will be years of carrying that burden of your "pre-weight loss years" on your back but knowing it has made you stronger.

Be the before and after picture. But share your story. Because what people love even more than a before and after shot, is knowing that there was hurt behind it - knowing there was a struggle, there were meltdowns in the shower (ie, me this morning), there were weeks you gained weight, nights you said yes to the extra beer and mornings you ran 3 extra miles because of it. And most importantly - Do. Not. Give. Up. Because you are worth it.