The Quiet Foe

When I decided to ditch any of my metric collecting apps and electronics in the name of living a freer, more spontaneous life, I didn’t realize that these items were motivators that kept away the quiet foe I have fought for most of my life. Without goals like riding 50 miles a week (or near that), walking several miles a week, tracking my food intake, I slipped under the murky waters that I fight every day of my life.

Thanks to my genetics, my traumatic past and who knows what else, this quiet foe is simply chronic depression but it has a way of sneaking up on me. While at first, I felt freer and happier not tracking my steps, miles and calories, I didn’t know that these were indeed motivators that kept depression at bay. Left to my own devices, as depression started winning again without me noticing, I stopped riding my bike as much, stopped walking and hiking, stopped paying attention to what I’m eating. At first I thought that oh, it’s just peri-menopause so I rested more. I was taking care of myself, listening to my body. Except I didn’t realize I was slipping under again. Depression feels so normal to me, it’s so hard for me to detect until I’m almost drowning.

So, I can’t just be what I consider normal. I can’t trust my body or mind to tell me what I really need because without consistent exercise or eating healthy, I get swept back under the current of apathy, disinterest, fatigue and agitation from sleeping less than my usual nights. I can’t trust my body to tell me what I should eat because the depression has me seeking sugar as if it is my only life force. Without healthy food, I further compound my issues especially lack of energy. Without my weekly fitness goals, I lack energy and motivation to get outside, to ride, to hike and do yoga which counteracts my depression. My body just slips deeper into a ‘lazy’ pattern as I lose interest in things I enjoy. I just stop caring about doing these things.

Without forcing myself out to ride, walk, hike and so on, I just will not exercise. Or I make a half-hearted attempt at whatever I chose to do. It’s the curse of the depression. Once I have the goal set in my head and I’ve started into my first minutes of the activity, I find myself enjoying it but sometimes the hardest thing is just putting on my shoes or riding gear or driving to where I am going to perform the activity. Just starting can seem so overwhelming, I end up on the couch or lying in bed reading. Which if I do this often enough, it becomes the norm which lets my quiet foe sneak up on me and drag me down under the surface again.

It isn’t an easy thing to accept, that I can’t just trust my body or my mind to tell me the best things for me because it is so easy for me to slip into behaviors that make my depression worse because it is tiring always having to force yourself out to exercise. The benefit of this though is, the more I do it, the harder I work out, the easier it becomes to get myself started. The less depression has a hold on me. The happier I am. I wish I could just trust my inner judgment but the truth is, depression has skewed my perceptions of what is ‘good’ for me. Lying around all the time is not good for me. Lying around reading after I rode 20 miles isn’t the same. I’ve worked out, I’ve been outside, I’ve taken the sword and struck at the depression monster again pushing him back into his dark cave. The cave that he insists on dragging me back into with him. When I become complacent, he gains ground and when I fight (keep on the fitness, eating well path), I gain ground. The tug of war is so slight, so quiet that it happens without me knowing.

So bottom line, I have reinstalled my apps, I will clip my cyclocomputer back on my bike, I will reset my goals and keep fighting the good fight. This is what I need to do to live well and live happy. Maybe it’s a bit of a burden, maybe it ties me to my electronics and apps a bit, but the tradeoff is greater. The tradeoff is feeling alive, feeling happier and more alert. Goals aren’t a bad thing. Trying to go through day-to-day without any motivation, anything specific to work toward is like walking around blind at times. This has been an interesting manifestation of my theory of taking care of myself meant unburdening my life of everything that motivated me. As it backfired. Big time.

Taking care of myself means having these fitness goals to keep me moving. Otherwise, the quiet foe wins.

Flying Blind (Sorta)

Recently, I decided to spend a year revamping how I live a bit. I have tongue-in cheek named this the "Year of Me" as I question different beliefs about myself, etc. More on that later on down the road.

Today I sat down and wrote down specific things I wanted to do over the next year. Under the "Stop It!" Heading, I decided that I need to quit measuring everything I do against some sort of benchmark. Like weighing myself or counting calories or measuring my body parts as well as not feeling like I have to be doing something productive every moment of every day. Essentially, I want to remember how it is to be a kid without all these measurements of how successful (or unsuccessful) I am.

So I went on and deleted all the apps I use to track anything from food to steps to miles. I want to just live and not make everything into a 'job' or 'chore' or 'goal'. I want to live better, enjoy the moments of my life more. Anyone who cycle knows there are many ways of measuring what you are doing from cyclocomputers, to Strava (GPS power) and so on. You can get pretty technical in weights in everything on your bike and what you wear (in grams) and so on. I decided today when I went out to my bike to remove my computer from the handlebars. I wouldn't be able to see my speed, distance, fastest speed, etc. a all. i had deleted my ride tracking app. Simply I got on my bike and rode my fave short route, to the end of my road and back.

Other than grumbling because they tarred and chipped the last section of my road, I had a very enjoyable ride. I know I rode about 13 miles but that's just from memory. I don't know how fast I rode, or how many minutes it took me to do five miles. What I did notice was many things I ignore on this ride. I saw the flowers blooming in the ditch, I found a natural pace without worrying about if I was going fast enough. I just rode for the sheer enjoyment of it. You know, like when you're a kid and you just get on your bike to ride to a friend's house or go on an adventure you dream up. Fun. Without worrying about mph or distance.

I am not training for any events, I simply ride for exercise and the fact I love riding. Today I found dropping all the gauges and metric associated with road riding, I had much more fun and it didn't seem like work at all. That's what we seem to do as we get older, make everything 'work'. Or a goal or a part of achieving something more. We forget to just be in the moment and have fun. And the distractions of all the gadgetry adds to missing whole parts of the experience.

Today instead of relying on the miles per hour displayed on my cyclocomputer, I simply listened to what my body wanted to do. Maybe I even rode faster, I don't know. And it doesn't mater. I'm outside, in the fresh air and working my cardio though it just felt like play.. That's how more things in my life need to be. Play, fun. I need to quit sucking the fun out of the simplest things because that's what I am 'supposed' to do as an adult.

This next year is learning how to enjoy my life more and take much better care of myself. I'm not great at that. i tend to push myself past my limits when I shouldn't. Just like forcing myself to ride 50 miles just to say I rode 50 miles. I'm not training for anything, then why do it? It's time to rethink the way I approach things in life. It's the perfect year to regroup, rethink and explore. And remember what pure joy a simple act like riding my bike can be. To rediscover childlike wonder with the world.

Maybe I'll get some sparkly streamers too!

Slow Like a Turtle – 23/23 Weeks – Food Journal Check In

As with most weight loss journeys, you will reach a tough point or a plateau or both.  It’s just the nature of the beast.  You start out and the weight seems to come off easily at first.  Then you hit that point where it feels like you are not moving forward at all. This is the most crucial point.  My best advice – DON’T QUIT!  Keep on course, make some adjustments.  Double check your portion sizes, make sure you’re being fully honest about what you are recording in your food journal, take your measurements (which can show progress even if your weight is stagnant or has gone up a few pounds) and maybe make a few simple changes to spark further weight loss (or size reduction because weight isn’t all the best metric).

Look at what you are eating, maybe you need to eat more fruits and veggies, did you remember to count the sugar in your coffee, etc.  Are you exercising or have you slacked off?  There is also the paradox that I fall into which can be very frustrating if you just use weight as a metric  When the weather gets nice, I’m exercising more in the form of cycling and hiking which means I put on muscle weight which is why measurements are so important. Today’s results:

23 weeks – 23.0 lbs lost / 23 inches lost (8 measurements/ 9 inches from 3 core measurements.

Average 1.0 lb week or 1 inch a week (8 sites) or 0.39 inches per week (3 core measurements)

At 13 weeks – lost 17.2 lbs (1.32 lbs per week)/ 10.75 inches (8 sites) – 0.83″ per week/ 6.25 inches (3 core sites) – 0.48 inches per week

So if you look at the averages of loss in weight and measurements from 13 to 23 weeks, there are some differences but the surprising thing is though my weight loss slowed from 1.32 lbs per week to 1.0 lb per week, my average measurement reduction was higher in all 8 sites (1 inch per week at 23 weeks) as compared to 0.83″ per week at 13 weeks though my weight loss had slowed.  Okay, I’m a big numbers nerd.  But my point is, KEEP GOING!  Also, don’t let the number on the scale deter you.  Especially if you have started exercising more, picked a new or resumed a seasonal activity like cycling.  When I start cycling, my thigh measurements increase for awhile as does my weight.  This is simply a gain in muscle size and muscle weight for awhile.  

The problem with just using weight as your metric is you don’t get a full picture.  And don’t even get me started on BMI the most useless measurement there is especially if you are athletic at all.  Elite athletes who can have single digit body fat percentages will come up as “Obese” on the BMI chart.  BMI is a faulty metric. A pound of muscle is much more dense than a pound of fat.  See the photo below I found on the internet:


That’s why my measurements can shrink much faster than my weight when I start up my cycling season.  I naturally tend to put on muscle quickly.  I have measurements in my spreadsheet that go clear back to 2004 and in my current spreadsheet from November 2016 until now, I took my largest and smallest measurements recorded and put them on this particular sheet for reference.  Yes, I am seriously a nerd!  So here is an eye opener:

At my largest measurements I only weighed 7.4 pounds more than I do today (in Jan 2007) but the difference in my current measurements to those measurements is -25.75 inches (8 sites).  So what is different between 1/2007 and today?  I’m incredibly athletic and fit at 47 compared to how I was at 37.  I had just started riding bikes back then and could barely ride 4.5 miles on a bike path without feeling like I was going to die.  Now it takes me 50 miles on a bike path to duplicate that feeling of I am going to die (or never sit down again!).  I could barely hike my favorite trails which I coast along now as if it’s nothing putting in 4-5 miles as if it’s nothing when I could barely hike 1-2 miles (with multiple rest stops).

My diet at 37 was crap and more crap.  My diet now is moderate crap as treats.  Okay, I’m not giving up ice cream (did reduce the portion size significantly without any deprivation) but I did substitute my occasional craving for greasy potato chips with veggie chips where I can have 30 of them for 120 calories rather than a few regular chips for the same calories.  I loved whipped cream and at 20 calories a tablespoon, I can add it to my 3/4 cup serving of pudding in a generous dollop and enjoy it.  Or on ice cream.  Always on ice cream, that’s a law by the way in my house.  When the can of Reddi-whip is empty, I go into panic mode so I always keep a sparse can.  No, I am not joking.  I love it that much which gives my family plenty of fodder for jokes.

I have incorporated in yoga 3-4 times a week as well.  My life in general is much more healthy than at 37.  So on your journey to being more fit and healthy, look at the big picture.  Celebrate all the little improvements because they add up to big changes and results.  Plus just use weight as one piece of the puzzle not the only one.  Part of a healthier lifestyle is exercise and depending on what you do, it could make you weigh more because you’ve added muscle weight which helps boost your BMR (basal metabolic rate) or resting metabolism.  Plus exercise (in moderation – don’t go crazy) is great for your memory, building new capillaries (depending on exercise – cycling is a great one), reducing stress, getting you outside (really important – use sunscreen!) and improving your lunch and heart functions.  Our bodies were created to move and so many of us have jobs where we sit all day.  Or come home and watch tv or sit on our devices cruising social media.

I will be honest, this last 10 weeks since my previous post have been a struggle.  I had to adjust what I was eating, look at my food journal with an eagle eye to see where I was cheating myself (not recording a big enough portion etc.) and to remind myself that I was back into cycling up to 50 miles a week and my body composition was changing because I was getting back into riding (adding more muscle weight).  It sucks to see the scale go up 5-6 pounds when yu worked so hard to lose that 5-6 pounds.  It is easy to feel discouraged but step back and look at what is going on.  For me it was not being as honest as I could with my food journal entries.  I also cut out making big bowls of steel-cut oatmeal with a little cream, nuts and berries.  While healthy foods (okay not the cream but it was just a little), the calories I consumed didn’t abate my mid morning hunger so I was eating more calories.  I reverted back to my packets of oatmeal, precisely 160 calories per packet and saw the weight slowly start going back to what it was 13 weeks ago.

Though I dreaded writing this post because it felt like I was failing myself, once I really sat down with today’s measurements, weight and crunched the numbers, I still saw improvement.  The joy is in the journey not the final destiny.  So they say.  But it is true,  I was surprised to see my body measurements had decreased and then when I compared them to my former unhealthier lifestyle (I still can make improvements), I felt buoyed and the dread dissipated.  This still gave me a sense of an accomplishment that I kept plugging away even during the rough part.  That I analyzed my choices to get me back on track and while it can still be a PITA, I am still using the food journal app almost six months later.

Though it’s hard, trust me I know this because my husband’s weight loss has really overshadowed mine (60+ lbs), keep going.  It becomes more habit after awhile as you adopt this new lifestyle.  I don’t really deprive myself of anything.  Last night my daughter and I went to one of our favorite diners that has the best patty melt and hand cut fair fries (that I drown in malt vinegar), but we split a plate.  We used to order one full plate for each of us but we found that we were more than satisfied by splitting their huge single portion.  We stopped and got one scoop of ice cream.  Last year I would have ordered their version of a Snickers Blizzard which is like 650 calories at least because it’s huge.  I enjoyed that one scoop of peanut butter cup ice cream immensely and didn’t feel sick afterward.  It was more than enough.  Much of our battle is in our own minds.  Don’t deprive, use portion control, if you can find healthy swaps that satisfy you – use them.  If you can’t find a healthy swap, then just use moderation.  Deprivation only makes it worse and you will end up bingeing.

I’m so excited at my improvement that after writing this, I’m going to go buy myself something fun (non-food related)!  Keep the course until net time, friends!  Lots of love, I’m on the journey with you.  

Food Journal – 3 Month Update

Well, 2/21 marked three months that I have been using a food journal app (MyPlate) every day.  And I mean every single day even though at times it has been a bit annoying and a hassle.  They say that it takes 3 months to adopt a habit (good or bad) into your life though I think the bad habits probably are easier to adapt because they are usually more enjoyable.  So the breakdown for the 3 months (13 weeks):

Pounds lost: 17.2 (approx 1.3 lbs per week)

Inches lost (8 measurements): 10.75.  Inches lost (3 core measurements – bust, waist, hips): 6.25

When I went back and saw the highest weight I recorded last year which was on 5/21 (which will coincide with my 6 month food journal anniversary date), I’ve lost 20.6 lbs.  Though it doesn’t sound like much in some ways since I have probably approximately 75 lbs to lose still, it’s a big chunk.  Because roughly (since I do not know what my natural weight will be as muscle weighs more than fat), let’s say I needed to lose 100 lbs for the sake of easy math.  So I’m already 20% of the way there going from my highest recorded weight of 2016.  

So 17-20 lbs doesn’t sound like much but when I was in the grocery the other day, I bought a bag of cat litter that was 20lbs.  Lifting it into the cart, I realized this is how much weight I’m not dragging around with me.  Last May, I was struggling like crazy to ride my bike.  I’d just spent the entire winter buried in college classes finishing my degree and I didn’t pay attention to what I was doing to my body.  I graduated in May, at one of the heaviest weights I’ve been in my life.  I’ve been about 5-10 lbs more at one point years ago but here I had crept back up into that range.  Riding my bike was difficult.  

I will give myself a bit of a pass since my peri-menopause was in full blowout mode.  I wasn’t sleeping, my moods were awful (which were probably exacerbated by the weight gain and poor eating habits), exhaustion set it and the hot flashes made it miserable to do any kind of exercise on a hot day.  You can get an idea of what the fires of hell might feel like when you’re riding on a humid 95 degree day and one of those hot flashes hit you.  I had to pull off the bike path and sit in the shade while politely declining offers from well-meaning cyclists who wanted to call 911.  Yeah, no, it’s just a hot flash.  It will pass.  I just hoped I wouldn’t vomit because that’s how crappy I felt.  I pretty much hung up my bike and focused on doing the one thing that didn’t make me feel awful which was walking.  The dog and I pounded out many miles on pavement and trail.  

So how am I feeling now?  Luckily, the hot flashes and exhaustion and moodiness have settled down to a more manageable level.  I think that eating better and exercising even more has helped with this as well as the fact that peri-menopause eventually runs its course.  I’m hoping I am through the worst of it though I still need a sleep aid to get me through the night.  On top of things, I am hypothyroid but with dedication to the food journal and healthier eating, I’ve lost a good amount of weight in 13 weeks.  These factors may make it harder to lose weight but it’s not impossible.  

Since the weather in Ohio has been mild, I’ve been out road biking 3 times already this year.  I’m doing roughly 12-15 mile down and back road rides with the usual wind that accompanies this time of the year.  Last year, I was really discouraged and struggling.  This year, I’m feeling really good and I’m excited about the cycling season 2017.  I’m setting a goal of riding approximately 50 miles a week when the “season” starts which is usually about mid-April when you can start getting out and riding more consistently if you don’t like the cold weather (I don’t).  I want to ride over 1500 miles this year.  A few years ago, I hit 1000 miles but I haven’t been that dedicated since.  

Last night I was down on the rower and noticed I was able to do 20 minutes with minimal breaks.  I feel stronger in general.  After I row, I do some yoga to cool down and stretch.  I noticed I am able to flow through sequences and hold poses better and hopefully more gracefully.   I have much more energy in general and I can’t wait to see how I am going to feel when I lose the rest of this extra weight.  I imagine it will be like walking around with helium balloons tied to my limbs!  I already feel “lighter”.  

So I have passed my initial goal of doing the food journal daily for three months.  I’ve set a new goal of doing it every day for six months which will be 5/21/2017.  By this time I will be a good month into my riding 50 miles a week as well.  I’m excited to see what changes will come from continuing my plan.  I am certain I will hit a plateau at some point and will need to make some adjustments but I am enjoying eating better.  My husband bought me an Instant Pot to speed up cooking preparation so we eat out even less.  No matter what restaurant you favor, it is almost always better calorie wise to eat at home.  It’s also much cheaper too!  We still go out to eat but with less frequency.  Now, being able to whip up a delicous meal in 30 minutes or less on average, it takes away the urge to run into town to grab some fast food.  

Well, onto the next three months!  This is exciting!

I Will Never Do That Again (Skip Exercise for 4-5 Months)

For whatever reason, last November, I decided after reading an article that it wasn’t how much you worked out but what you ate that was more important.  Well, maybe it is but I don’t know why I got it in my head that I would give it a try over the winter months while I finished my college degree.  I was going to be busy with classes anyway, so what would it hurt?

UGH.  I’m 46-years old, not working out for months really affects your body.  First you start getting lethargic and then you start to grow weaker.  For me, depression runs in my family and exercise helps keep this at bay.  Which I knew and which I thought oh, a few months won’t hurt.  Another really dumb assumption.  School kept me busy but I just never felt good all winter.

Winter is a season I struggle with anyway because I am very much an outdoors person and well I hate the cold so I am stuck inside more.  I join gyms but then quit by mid-April when I can get outdoors again which means I have 6-7 months of the yearly fee that is wasted.  I wish they would let you do a winter gym membership for November – April where you could pay one fee up front.  Though I found I end up catching more colds and viruses when I go to the gym even though I clean every piece of equipment before and after use.  That and I’m not a fan of crowds or waiting on people who decided to camp out on say, the leg press, as if it is their personal throne.  There are only so many evil, impatient looks I can give in a day.

Probably unrelated was the fact my thyroid slowed down even more but I didn’t find out I needed a higher dosage of my medicine until spring.  So I put on 25-30 lbs.  Now I am heavier and weaker and more fatigued than I have been in a long time.  I got a new dosage of medicine and pulled out my bike on the first warm day.  I rode a little and felt like crying.  it was as if I was starting riding 10 years ago.  I wanted to kick myself.

Now I am 4 months later starting back to exercising pretty much an hour or more daily alternating between riding and walking or hiking. It has been a slow process and the longest I’ve ridden has been not quite 40 miles.  Last year by August I had ridden almost my 1000 miles for the year.  This year I’ve barely broken 600 miles.  I have no one to blame but myself (okay maybe my thyroid just a little).  Regaining my fitness has been a struggle and I have yet to lose the weight.  My clothes are looser but the scale won’t move but for me it could simply be muscle weight replacing fat.

Mostly though I am frustrated with starting over.  While winter is not my friend, I have to keep exercising almost every day to keep from losing my fitness.  The one thing I have to remember how much better I feel when I work out most days, how much less I eat because my appetite seems to diminish.  Instead of finding myself eating all the time for no particular reason, I’m finding that I wait until I’m hungry and some days I’m not hungry as often.  In a way, not doing what you body was designed to do, move, sabotages you and you end up gaining weight, feeling crappy and lethargic.  It is much like night and day how I feel when I am exercising vs. when I am not.

The moral of the story – Keep moving, every day.  This is more my reminder than your instruction though I would love to hear how exercise or lack of exercise affects you.  The one key I have learned, is you have to pick activities you enjoy.  Me, I have to be outside most times and I never stick with videos, classes or prescribed regimens.  I need it to be fun, like play when you are a kid.  I try to remember to keep active throughout the day which means cleaning my house, working in the yard, taking the dog for a walk or whatever I can dream up.

I’ve decided that I will invest in whatever equipment or clothing I need to keep active this winter.  I’m selling my rollers and going back to the rear wheel bike trainer (wonderful barely used set of e-motion cycling rollers for sale – contact me! :-).  As Denise Austin would say on her aerobics videos, if you rest, you rust.  As my great-grandmother would say, you are only as old as you feel, so she tried to stay as active as she could and lived to be 100.  Sitting on my arse is not taking care of myself, it’s destroying my health.

Note to self – keep moving, stay moving, stay strong.

Why I Love Bike Paths…

Since the closest bike path to me is 35 miles, I do a lot of road riding straight from my driveway though cars fly up and down my country road like it’s the Autobahn.  While the roads out here are fairly straight, there are many hills near my house which when you are not a light person, are a bit of a struggle.  Cue in the wind and I’m usually always struggling on the road while feeling like giving up at any moment.  While I suppose it is making me a stronger rider, I don’t enjoy the ride as much and so it becomes a chore to even get my bike down off the rack and push it out of the garage. 

A shady and wooded path


Lately, I have been trying to reach my weekly mileage goal by peicing together 4-5 shorter rides where I used to do two longer bike path rides a week.  This adds to the ‘chore’ feeling of riding.  I’m simply meeting a goal and am not really enjoying my ride.  Plus the I’m gearing up 4-5 days a week rather than a few.  Though some cycling enthusiasts will say you should ride most days of the week, I’m not feeling like I’m getting anywhere fitness-wise.  Plus, I would like to do more walking or hiking, maybe put in a swim at the lake.  I’m not sure my knees are up to daily riding, I seem to do better riding several times a week for longer stints than fighting hills for 4-5 rides.  

A run along the river


Today, I had an early morning appointment to get the oil changed in my truck 10 miles away from the closest trail so I tossed my bike in.  I figured, I’m that close, might as well ride the path.  The heat across the country has been oppressing, and even though it was only 845 a.m., the temperature was a very humid 84 degrees.  I chose the shadiest section of trail and started at the closest parking lot.  Though the parking lot was in the sun and I was sweating before I even clipped into the pedals, I felt that I was already looking forward to the ride.  When I ride down my driveway, I am not usually excited to ride, but I feel more like it’s a forced march.  

A small lake tucked away


As I crossed the road and passed the dry creek bed, I slipped into the shady wooded area in some of my favorite trail sections.  Instantly, I am in my happy place.  I love the dappled shade, the twist and curve of the path, the river running near, the older couple who say good morning as they ride by, the little dog who sits and waits for me to pass, the black wrought iron benches placed at scenic spots, the downtown buildings, the different bridges I cross, the cemetary that reminds me that life is short, the white mansion that sits on the hill, the small quiet lake, the city parks, the mother pushing two young children in a double stroller with a third child strapped to her chest, the lady jogging who gives me a pained smile, the barefoot fisherman, purple lupine, dame’s rocket, Queen Anne’s lace and the miles that seem to pass without my notice.  Okay that is a huge run-on sentence, but that is just a few things I loved from today’s 22-mile ride.  

An iron bridge that trains once traversed


While I rode today, I wondered why have I been killing myself on more frequent, shorter road rides.  Why not just put in two longer rides on the bike path even if I do have to drive an hour round trip or longer?  If it means I enjoy cycling more, then shouldn’t I do that as much as possible?  Fill in with road rides when I need to.   When I am out riding on the road, I am worried about cars hitting me, fighting harsh pavement conditions, big hills, no shade and really not a lot of to engage my senses.  Miles and miles of crop fields broken up by the occassional home or farm.  

A field of wildflowers


I worry about dogs chasing me or weird strangers slowing down and abducting me while I ride out in the middle of nowhere.  I carry dog spray (pepper spray that shoots far) more for people than dogs.  Not that you don’t run into the occassional weirdo on the bike path. There have been moments when my spider senses go into hyper drive but usually there are people around moreso than riding in the country.

The river view from a recently opened secrion of trail


Not that you can’t have an accident on a bike path.  You still should wear a helmet and pay attention.  I’ve had two bad accidents on a path.  The first one was an ambulance ride and a concussion because I wasn’t paying attention (didn’t I just warn about that!).  My front tire had slipped off the pavement causing me to go end over appetite crashing head first into the pavement (why you wear a helmet).  The EMTs had to drive back in a pickup truck becuase there was no way to get an ambulance to me.  That was certainly an expensive mistake.

A white mansion tucked behind the trees


The second time was hitting a suicidal racoon that darted out of the woods.  Hitting him was like hitting a brick wall which again sent me head over heels and to the ER to later find I had a separated shoulder.  So, while cars are usually no an issue unless you are crossing roads, you still have to be really careful and alert.  

Canal view


That aside, I am a big advocate for bike paths and bike lanes.  They help keep us safe from vehicles though they aren’t bullet-proof.  The paths normally wind through interesting scenery and take you to places you may not normally see from a car.  It gives you the opportunity to interact, even if it’s just a quick hello, with other cyclists and exercises of all walks of life and ages.  They provide normally a fairly flat surface to ride or walk or run.  They help us get or stay fit.  Bottom line is that bike paths are a great asset to every community.

Sick of Starting Over (Fitness)…

We all have something that we struggle with throughout our life.  For awhile we may overcome it but maybe it creeps back into our day-to-day life.  For me, since I was around 11, it’s been weight and dieting.  I spent my childhood not worrying about weight or looks but out playing, exploring and riding my bike.  The only time I was ever on a scale was at the doctor’s office and that number was simply something the nurse noted down or told my mom and that was that.  Weight wasn’t a focus in my life.

Then I spent one summer with my weight-obsessed maternal grandmother who was always on a diet of some sort.  She worshipped the scale as if it had some magic power to make her into the person she always wanted to be.  At the time, I lived in Missouri near my paternal grandparents and that grandmother was too busy doing chores, feeding livestock and milking cows to even care about weight.  She was a bit on the heavy side but I never once heard her talk about a diet or not having a cookie or being upset she couldn’t fit into a pair of slacks.  But in 1981, my parents shipped my sister and I from mid-Missouri to eastern Ohio to spend the summer with my mom’s parents.

My maternal grandparents lived in a small two-bedroom, one bath ranch house built in the 1940’s which was crammed full of antiques and furniture they collected.  In the small hall that connected the bath and two small bedrooms was a dry sink and one day my grandmother led me into the hallway and pulled out a digital scale which was very new-fangled back in 1981.  I was simply fascinated with the red LED numbers that would show up.  She would step on the scale but I was not allowed to look at the number.  I really didn’t know why but she was my grandmother so I obeyed her wishes.  Then I stood on the scale and looked down at the number that didn’t mean a thing to me.  I couldn’t even tell you what it was any more if it even stuck in my mind then.

After that, every day the weighing ritual began.  I didn’t really pay much attention to it, just did as she asked.  The scale just seemed like a toy to me.  Things changed though after a few weeks.  My grandmother had been feeding my sister and I like we were starving kids in China.  I always only ate until I was just full, well except around holidays when the tables were full of so many delectable foods, I would stuff myself until I was sick.  Then my cousins and I would go run around the yard whether it be in shorts or snow suits.  Since it didn’t feel good to stuff myself like that, I only did it around holidays.

Except now, my grandmother was getting upset if I didn’t eat more.  So to please her I was eating beyond my comfort zone.  It was like a holiday at almost every meal.  Then the number on the scale started creeping up.  My clothes started to get tighter and tighter.  Soon they had to take me and buy me new clothes, except now I had to shop in the women’s department rather than the girls department.  I remember feeling sad I had outgrown my regular size which was toward the high-end of kids’ sizes anyway but I wasn’t quite ready to jump into grown up clothes.

When the daily weigh-in came now, I started to dread it and sometimes tried to get out of it.  My grandmother would look at the number and cluck sadly that I was gaining weight.  I felt like I had let her down or I was doing something wrong.  She would then send me out to run laps around the house or ride her old Schwinn bike up and down the street while she watched that no one abducted me.  Like some forced exercise program.   Then she started talking about diets not only in relationship to her since she was always on some diet, but in regards to me. In the midst of this summer, my parents sprang on me that we were moving from Missouri to the other side of Ohio.   I remember crying with body-wracking sobs on the phone to my mom that I didn’t want to move, to leave my other grandparents and the few friends I had to go to some strange town on the other side of Ohio.  I sank into more despair and turned to food for comfort.  Why not?  My grandmother was already feeding me like I was a line backer for the nearby Pittsburgh Steelers.  I already had a much larger wardrobe of adult sized clothes.

Looking back now, of course, I see I was gaining weight because she was literally force feeding me more than I wanted to eat.  It was this entire shaming cycle that to this day, I know my grandmother loved me very much and was a good person, but I do not understand why she did it other than misery loves company.  From that summer on, weight became an issue for me and I was never quite the carefree kid I had been before that summer.  I was creeping closer to middle school age and all the peer pressure, plus I was starting a new school where no one really accepted me.

I have dealt with eating disorders in my 20’s.  I had given up in my mid-30’s while suffering from a bad marriage and depression until I was almost 300 lbs.  At 38, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism and trust me, the weight doesn’t magically come off when you start treatment.  At least not for me and most of the people I know who also have this issue. I’ve grown to accept my larger-sized body, stop beating myself up for it.  I’ve donated several scales and quit weighing myself altogether.  It took me awhile but I finally quit beating myself up, started loving myself and appreciating what my body could do even if I wasn’t thin or petite.  I was at least curvy and strong.  I could ride my bike 50 miles in a day or hike as much as I wanted.  I wasn’t running marathons, but I was athletic.

Then late fall, I read an article that documented a study that said exercise was not important that it was the calories that you ate.  I don’t even remember where I saw it, probably something linked to a Facebook post.  However, as I was starting my last semester of college with a full-time class load as well as working, this gave me permission to not worry about working out.  We had moved to the country and I wasn’t joining a gym again so I literally took from November-last week off of exercise.  I spent more time on my backside, lying on the couch and just immobile than I had in years.  At first my clothes fit fine.  Then after my birthday in February I noticed that my jeans were getting tighter.  Then I had a few yearly check up appointments where the scale came into play.  I was shocked at the number.  I had gained a good thirty pounds and since my jeans had been a little big to start with, I had room to grow.

When you spend so much of your time not active, it’s very hard to get back into that flow again.  The first few road cycling rides I took were a very stark testament to how out of shape I had become.  Though 30 pounds may not sound like much, on a bike it makes an enormous difference.  Not only are you having to move that much more weight on two wheels, you also have more pressure on your butt and hands which makes cycling even more uncomfortable.  Last year at this time, I actually weighed less than I had in years because of a medical condition that finally resolved itself in last July.  Riding last spring felt like I had wings, I was fast and could ride much further without as much training.  This spring, I feel like a sloth who can barely turn the crank.  That is why serious cyclists are obsessed with weight not only on their bodies but their bikes.  The more weight, the slower you are (unless you are going downhill) and the less miles you ride.  It is just simple physics.

The first few rides this year, I wanted to give up.  We have moved out to an area that is much more hillier than my previous routes when I rode from my house in town.  The kicker is that my house sits on one of the highest elevations in our county and no matter which way I ride from my driveway, east or west, I have to ride back up a big hill.  Hills are not the friend of the heavy cyclist.  I’ve had to drop out of my normal gear range I rode last year, into the lowest gears I have just to spin up this hill at a paltry 7-9 mph.  That feels like defeat to me though I tell myself, just ride it, you’re training, you’ll get back into shape.  But part of me wants to get off the bike, throw it in the ditch and stomp back home in a fit.  I have yet to do that as my bike cost quite a bit of money and my husband would never let me buy another one.  And that would be me acting like a baby, but I have a moment or two or three where I want to quit.

I wasn’t going to set a mileage goal this year and I’ve changed my mind.  I need the motivation to get out there and ride.  Minimum of 45 with the desired goal of 60 miles a week for me to reach the top range of my 2016 mileage goal since I haven’t ridden but 138 miles this year so far and it’s already late May.  Being mid-life, this is not the time to give up your exercise program.  If nothing else I need it more than ever.  I have a lazy thyroid and I’m moving into the menopausal years or perimenopause where the hot flashes are starting, my estrogen level is very low.  Now it is even more important that I take good care of myself because my body is slowing down.

This winter I noticed my desire and motivation to get out and do things had waned greatly and that I had little energy.  This spring I realized, I have to quit reading these stupid studies and trust what I know about myself.  Exercise makes me feel stronger, better and gives me a ton more energy.  It also boosts my self-esteem and self-image.  Plus my clothes look better on me.  At my recent college graduation, all my dresses went back in the closet after I realized that my weight gain made me look like lumpasaurus in them.  I want to buy some new spring or summer clothes to wear to work, but I am going to wait a month or so.  Otherwise I will be in the fitting room crying.  Know thyself.

So now that school is done, and most of my life goals except for publishing a novel have been met, I think now is a good time to focus on overcoming this lifelong struggle of mine with food, though I don’t overeat like I once did and getting into the kind of shape I want to be.  This isn’t about losing weight but about being able to do all the things I love without the fight and struggle of fighting my own body mass.  Following Geneen Roth’s advice of eat only when you are hungry, eat exactly what you want and stop before you are too full.  Essentially going back to how I ate before my summer at my grandmothers except I get to pick and cook the meals.

The second part is to keep activity and exercise forefront in my day. Push myself to new athletic heights.  The good thing is that I love to bike, hike and do yoga or even swim when I can.  I don’t dread exercise as many people do.  Just being active in general as well whether it be get off the couch and go pull some weeds or take a walk down my country road.  Expand my yoga practice to asanas that I haven’t yet tackled that look too hard.  You get the idea.

This week I have paid attention, consciously became more active and I feel so much better already.  I have more energy, I feel less like a fat sloth, it is amazing what exercise can do for you.  I will not diet, this always backfires as I rebel and end up gaining weight.  It is all about changing my lifestyle and staying active.  I have no weight or clothing size goal.  Just a mileage goal for my cycling this year.  To exercise most days of the week.  To not read some stupid article and give up on all my hard work.  Because when you are in your mid-40’s, you slide back pretty fast and it’s even harder to regain your former fitness level.  Slow and steady wins the race.  Well I don’t want to be slow but you know what I mean.

My goal is simply to make my weight and fitness (or lack of) a non-issue in my life after 35 years.  To be the best I can be without diets or craziness.  I am tired of struggling and I do not want to come back to the point again unless there is something out of my control.  It is time to resolve this once and for all so I can enjoy my life to the fullest.