I didn't realize I had gone so long between posts. Summer is speeding along and I have been running (literally and figuratively) to keep up.
My summer can be measured by events: first week of June is Annual Conference. July 4th means parade float. The end of July and early August is Vacation Bible School. Youth Group Labor Day Retreat and then fall programs start. Yikes! I am between VBS and Labor Day retreat.
My exercise and training sessions have been a bit haphazard, I am sad to admit.
My Personal Trainer (PT) and I have struggled a bit to find times when we can train. The week of Vacation Bible School tends to be hectic as my day begins at 6:15 a.m. and very seldom ends before 10:30 p.m. However, before VBS, I had been doing some running outside and on the treadmill and I have been enjoying that a bit more than I am willing to admit!
One of my favorite movies is "Forest Gump", a movie about a simple minded man whose life is quite extraordinary, sometimes by accident. When he is a young boy, he has to wear braces on his legs due to a back condition, which causes an awkward gait and an audience with Elvis Presley. (Watch the movie for further explanation). This results in years of teasing from his peers. His best friend, Jenny, tells him to run away from his tormenters. As he puts on the speed, his leg braces fall off and he has this amazing swiftness.
When I get on the treadmill, I immediately feel like the leg-braced Forest Gump. I have struggled to get the hang of walking on the treadmill, much less running. It always makes me feel a bit dizzy walking on a stationary machine. Holding on to the handles of the treadmill while running really does bad things for my stride and I end up with terrible shin splints. I have left the gym frustrated more than once: treadmill - 1, Lisa - zip! I carefully exit the treadmill as I feel like I am on a crabby boat in "Deadliest Catch".
I am no long distance runner and do not see any marathons in my future. As my favorite commercial character states, "I would run a marathon, but that's a really long way". So true. I do, however, enjoy incorporating the running into my training sessions.
One morning, I woke feeling jaunty and decided that I was going to get the hang of running on the treadmill regardless of what it was going to take. I was silently praying it wouldn't take crutches and a physical therapist
. I wasn't training with PT that day and had been instructed to do cardio when I don't someone who can watch me closely so I don't crash. I chose a treadmill in the corner so my failed attempts would not be so noticeable, or at least caught on someone's cell phone for posting on the internet. I started by walking and increasing the speed a little bit at a time without hanging on. After I got the hang of that, I bumped up the speed and began to jog. Some trial and error taught me that I need to run toward the middle of the conveyor belt instead of toward the front (where the handles and controls are). My stride felt good and I enjoyed several minutes of pleasant jogging. I walked and ran about two and a half miles. After I slowed the treadmill down for some cool down walking, I gingerly got off and headed to the bikes. I was so excited that I had learned a new skill. Now I know how Lucy feels when she learns a new trick! Unfortunately, there were no milkbone treats for me -- too many carbs!
I am continuing to struggle with my blood sugar and feel frustrated when my training sessions and exercise end with a bolus of glucose and a case of the shakes. Fortunately both PT and my exercise partner have successfully navigated some ugly blood sugar crashes and take it in stride. PT has gotten good at recognizing something isn't right, which is impressive as I would say that I'm "not quite right" most of the time!
When I am sitting at my desk at work, my low blood sugars are heralded by a shaking-sweaty feeling that can be countered with a few chocolate kisses and a couple of spoonsful of peanut butter. Not pleasant, but not too bad. When I am exercising, I don't usually have my "early detection symptoms". I go from OK to really not OK in minutes. I feel far off and have trouble focusing my eyes. I start to shake and my hear rate goes up. I struggle to respond to questions. I can hear the questions being asked, but cannot formulate an appropriate response, like "yes". Most people notice my lows because I get quiet. That is always out of character for me!
There is an amazing product on the market called "Quick Sticks". Quick Sticks are an oversized pixie-stick-like powder that you just pour into your mouth. I always carry a quick stick with my water bottle whenever I am in the gym. They are marketed for kids and the packaging reflects their target audience. However, they are mighty amazing for adults too.
Earlier this week, I crashed and burned in the gym in the matter of just a couple of minutes. PT came to ask if I was OK as I did my cool down and all I could do is shake my head "no". It took him just a couple of seconds to locate the Quick Stick and open it. It took me a bit longer to get it to my mouth with very shaky hands. I inhaled a bit of the powder (not highly recommended) and started coughing. My water bottle is a no-spill bottle, which means you have to bite down and suck on the mouthpiece at the same time to get water. It's great when you are on the elliptical or the treadmill, but not great when you are unable to handle drinking water. So, as I am coughing and trying to get water out of that silly bottle, I take off the cap and proceed to pour most of the water down my shirt. Yep, that's why I can't pick up guys at the gym! PT reassured me, saying "it just looks like you sweat a lot". Thanks, but not quite what I am going for!!
PT went to refill my water bottle. By the time PT had returned (literally just a minute), my color was better and I could focus my eyes. PT stuck close as I finished my "stick" and my pulse rate returned to normal (PT was as cool as a cucumber). The "sticks" can raise my blood sugar 50 points in less than five minutes!
I always leave the gym less than happy after one of these episodes, but I am blessed to have people who are willing to stick it out with me.
So, in summary, I am running and it isn't pretty, but I am having a blast. If you see me online, let me know so I can pop some popcorn and enjoy it too.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Week 11: SAS!
I am a clown. Now, I know that this will not come as a surprise to many people! I tend to walk on the weird side and am completely OK being a fool for Christ. However, the kind of clowning I am referring to is Christian Clowning. White faces to signify dying to oneself to "put on Christ". Movement and music to convey the message God choose to give to his people. I am blessed to be inparted with this gift.
I have taught many people clowning, some willingly and some unwillingly. It's always fun to watch the reactions as I teach someone who is not graceful to be graceful. I have had the opportunities to work with some amazing people who had a gift for this ministry. I have also been challenged to work with those whose response to my teaching led others to believe that they were being held against their will.
Perhaps the best compliment that I have ever received came from a young man who, after completing a very somber song about the crucifixion and resurrection, told me "You've found my inner clown!". I tuck that away in my heart for darker days.
In all travels to teach clowning and all of the people that I have had the chance to be in ministry with, I have stumbled across a contagious, fast-growing affliction. It seizes the victim and renders them unable to raise their arms in praise. I have named it SAS, "Saggy Arm Syndrome". It strikes without regard for age or gender. SAS can be transient depending on the sleep deprivation level and snack intake. I am working diligently to form a foundation whose sole focus will be to irradicate this disorder and am looking for a date to schedule a walk to raise awareness of SAS.
My strong feelings come from my firm belief that God made most of us with the ability to raise our arms straight up to praise Him. God gives us everything; we can give Him all of our praise. I am not only the head of SAS, but I am also a sufferer.
The biggest clowning ministry program we share is our Good Friday service. Hours of preparation and practice are put in to depict Jesus' ministry, crucifixion and resurrection that bought our salvation. For too many years, I had taken for granted the ability to raise my arms all the way above my head and walk. That all ended this year during Holy Week when I decided, in a moment of irrational thought, to start my personal training sessions. As I walked into the gym for my first session with my personal trainer (PT), he asked me if I was ready for this. I gulped and honestly said, "no". Never has a truer word been spoken! PT worked me so hard that day I almost didn't make it to the car. That was a walk in the park compared to the tight muscles and pain I enjoyed throughout the rest of the week. Every day brought a new ache and I tried everything to get some relief - cold packs, hot packs, ibuprofen, prayer - to no avail. The second session, which fell on Maundy Thursday, PT showed me some stretches that helped me bend my arms and my legs. By Good Friday, I was marginally functional and ready to put on the white. I am not proud to say that I did succomb to SAS that week. It was a dark day for me. However, PT did promise that the first workout would be the toughest. PT needed to see how far I could be pushed. Every workout after has been easier than the first day. I have still had workouts that have left me tired and/or sore, but I compare them to the first day and realize it's only mild discomfort.
Due to PT's schedule, we have begun training one day a week at 6 a.m. Yes, that's right -- in the morning. This is not ideal, but the up side is that I am at the gym for half an hour before I realize where I am! This week I wandered in to the gym, hopped on a stationary bike to warm up and await further instruction. I didn't have to wait long. PT announced that we were going to do some bench pressing today. I would have been less surprised if PT had told me that I was going to learn how to build a combustion engine! If my training sessions have taught me (and PT) anything, it's that I have very little upper body strength. I am impressed at just how weeny I really am. I am now very envious of children going across the monkey bars supporting all of their body weight with their arms. I got up and followed PT to the weights. After some basic instructions, which included "don't drop it on your throat" - which was an important safety tip - I was handed the bar. Without extra weights added to the sides, the bar weights 45 pounds. That means 22 pounds per arm. (I am not really sure where the other pound goes. I'm still looking for it. I will keep you posted.) PT lowers the bar and I use every ounce of arm strength not to drop it on my throat! Wow, 45 pounds is really heavy when you are laying on your back supporting it with your non-existent arm muscles. I did some reps and the bar wobbled as I hoisted it up and down. I am sure it wasn't pretty, although it may have been humorous to bystanders. Push ups from a standing position and more weight lifting with a crazy, bendy bar were interspersed with three minutes on the bike. After the abdominal weight machines, I was dismissed to cool down and start the rest of my day.
Oh my gracious! My arms didn't really hurt, but the muscles were so fatigued that I could barely lift my gym bag and carry it to the car. At home, I jumped in the shower only to find that I had Stage 4 Saggy Arm Syndome. It was easier to lower my head to my waist to shampoo and condition my hair than it was to raise my arms to reach my head. Good thing I don't have a long, involved hair styling routine or I would have had to call in sick to work!
One of my coworkers laughed at my inability to take off my jacket and reminded me that it might not hurt too much now, but wait until tomorrow. Those prophetic words floated to the surface of my consciousness the next morning as I tried to use my hand to shut off my alarm clock. Good thing I had washed my hair the day before because that would have been categorized in the same column as climb Mt. Everest and throw a dinner party for 500 people serving only laffy taffy and spray cheese.
As uncomfortable as my shoulders, back, arms and hands were for about three days, I also took satisfaction in knowing that I was once again making strides toward a more overall fitness level. In many parts of our lives, we don't grow and move forward unless we stretch ourselves beyond our comfort zone. Our faith walk will never move forward if we are unwilling to travel past what we can see. Our palate will never expand if we are do not try new tastes. Muscles will never develop if we never work them. Knowledge will never be acquired if we don't learn new and exciting things.
The phrase I use to let my clowns know that they have gone an amazing job of leading worship is "there is no SAS in sight". Arms were raised; hearts were raised as we praised an awesome God. We gave it everything we had and pushed our comfort zone a little further than we had ever ventured before. It simply means, well done.
I have taught many people clowning, some willingly and some unwillingly. It's always fun to watch the reactions as I teach someone who is not graceful to be graceful. I have had the opportunities to work with some amazing people who had a gift for this ministry. I have also been challenged to work with those whose response to my teaching led others to believe that they were being held against their will.
Perhaps the best compliment that I have ever received came from a young man who, after completing a very somber song about the crucifixion and resurrection, told me "You've found my inner clown!". I tuck that away in my heart for darker days.
In all travels to teach clowning and all of the people that I have had the chance to be in ministry with, I have stumbled across a contagious, fast-growing affliction. It seizes the victim and renders them unable to raise their arms in praise. I have named it SAS, "Saggy Arm Syndrome". It strikes without regard for age or gender. SAS can be transient depending on the sleep deprivation level and snack intake. I am working diligently to form a foundation whose sole focus will be to irradicate this disorder and am looking for a date to schedule a walk to raise awareness of SAS.
My strong feelings come from my firm belief that God made most of us with the ability to raise our arms straight up to praise Him. God gives us everything; we can give Him all of our praise. I am not only the head of SAS, but I am also a sufferer.
The biggest clowning ministry program we share is our Good Friday service. Hours of preparation and practice are put in to depict Jesus' ministry, crucifixion and resurrection that bought our salvation. For too many years, I had taken for granted the ability to raise my arms all the way above my head and walk. That all ended this year during Holy Week when I decided, in a moment of irrational thought, to start my personal training sessions. As I walked into the gym for my first session with my personal trainer (PT), he asked me if I was ready for this. I gulped and honestly said, "no". Never has a truer word been spoken! PT worked me so hard that day I almost didn't make it to the car. That was a walk in the park compared to the tight muscles and pain I enjoyed throughout the rest of the week. Every day brought a new ache and I tried everything to get some relief - cold packs, hot packs, ibuprofen, prayer - to no avail. The second session, which fell on Maundy Thursday, PT showed me some stretches that helped me bend my arms and my legs. By Good Friday, I was marginally functional and ready to put on the white. I am not proud to say that I did succomb to SAS that week. It was a dark day for me. However, PT did promise that the first workout would be the toughest. PT needed to see how far I could be pushed. Every workout after has been easier than the first day. I have still had workouts that have left me tired and/or sore, but I compare them to the first day and realize it's only mild discomfort.
Due to PT's schedule, we have begun training one day a week at 6 a.m. Yes, that's right -- in the morning. This is not ideal, but the up side is that I am at the gym for half an hour before I realize where I am! This week I wandered in to the gym, hopped on a stationary bike to warm up and await further instruction. I didn't have to wait long. PT announced that we were going to do some bench pressing today. I would have been less surprised if PT had told me that I was going to learn how to build a combustion engine! If my training sessions have taught me (and PT) anything, it's that I have very little upper body strength. I am impressed at just how weeny I really am. I am now very envious of children going across the monkey bars supporting all of their body weight with their arms. I got up and followed PT to the weights. After some basic instructions, which included "don't drop it on your throat" - which was an important safety tip - I was handed the bar. Without extra weights added to the sides, the bar weights 45 pounds. That means 22 pounds per arm. (I am not really sure where the other pound goes. I'm still looking for it. I will keep you posted.) PT lowers the bar and I use every ounce of arm strength not to drop it on my throat! Wow, 45 pounds is really heavy when you are laying on your back supporting it with your non-existent arm muscles. I did some reps and the bar wobbled as I hoisted it up and down. I am sure it wasn't pretty, although it may have been humorous to bystanders. Push ups from a standing position and more weight lifting with a crazy, bendy bar were interspersed with three minutes on the bike. After the abdominal weight machines, I was dismissed to cool down and start the rest of my day.
Oh my gracious! My arms didn't really hurt, but the muscles were so fatigued that I could barely lift my gym bag and carry it to the car. At home, I jumped in the shower only to find that I had Stage 4 Saggy Arm Syndome. It was easier to lower my head to my waist to shampoo and condition my hair than it was to raise my arms to reach my head. Good thing I don't have a long, involved hair styling routine or I would have had to call in sick to work!
One of my coworkers laughed at my inability to take off my jacket and reminded me that it might not hurt too much now, but wait until tomorrow. Those prophetic words floated to the surface of my consciousness the next morning as I tried to use my hand to shut off my alarm clock. Good thing I had washed my hair the day before because that would have been categorized in the same column as climb Mt. Everest and throw a dinner party for 500 people serving only laffy taffy and spray cheese.
As uncomfortable as my shoulders, back, arms and hands were for about three days, I also took satisfaction in knowing that I was once again making strides toward a more overall fitness level. In many parts of our lives, we don't grow and move forward unless we stretch ourselves beyond our comfort zone. Our faith walk will never move forward if we are unwilling to travel past what we can see. Our palate will never expand if we are do not try new tastes. Muscles will never develop if we never work them. Knowledge will never be acquired if we don't learn new and exciting things.
The phrase I use to let my clowns know that they have gone an amazing job of leading worship is "there is no SAS in sight". Arms were raised; hearts were raised as we praised an awesome God. We gave it everything we had and pushed our comfort zone a little further than we had ever ventured before. It simply means, well done.
Friday, June 14, 2013
Weeks 9 and 10: Traveling at the Speed of Life
The last two weeks of my calendar have been filled in for over a year. "CCYM Summer Meeting/Annual Conference in Bismarck" has been penciled in beginning June 3rd since last summer.
I serve on the Conference Council on Youth Ministry in our Dakotas United Methodist Conference. I have the opportunity to work with youth and other adults, planning and hosting events to offer Christ to the youth of the Dakotas. It's excited to see a group like this come together, enjoy fellowship, late night conversation and work for a common purpose of furthering the Kingdom of God in our midst.
The week before Annual Conference, I was in the gym with my personal trainer (PT) for one session. PT had been away and I had been left to my own devices. Apparently my devices were on target as the first training session with PT was not as much of a struggle as I had feared. However, I needed to get into my stride and boldly decided to keep my training sessions during Summer Meeting and Annual Conference.
We began Summer Meeting on Monday evening with supper. It was great to reconnect with my friends and meet the new youth CCYM members. Our meetings were held at the University of Mary south of Bismarck. It is a beautiful, peaceful place with a great board room that overlooks the river. Moving into the dorms reminded me why adults don't live in dorms. I didn't have to share a room, but it's not quite home. The temperature was chilly and I got up during the night to put on more clothes, socks and a sweatshirt.
It was rainy and gloomy on Tuesday, and I drove over from the dorms to the meeting room/dining hall instead of getting some fresh air and exercise. Another reminder of how nice it is that my dining room is in the same building as my bedroom.
Mid-morning, I was frantically trying to get a veterinary appointment for my dog, Lucy. She had an adverse reaction to some generic flea and tick serum I had applied on Monday before she had gone to the dog sitter's house. I was blessed with friends who helped out by driving her to my house and bathing a 140+ pound dog who did not particularly want to be bathed.
My training session went very well. PT led me through a "bootcamp style" workout, combining four or five different elements in three repititions of the cycle. I was feeling pretty good as I biked through my cool down. I would have skipped out of the gym if my PT hadn't asked me to come in on Thursday at 6:00 a.m. Yes, in the morning. Yikes!
Wednesday, we moved into the hotel for Annual Conference. We enjoyed a nice sit down meal and attended an orientation session. The youth were given free time and I enjoyed visiting with old friends. The youth were great and everyone was settled by 11 p.m.
When my alarm went off at 4:45 a.m., it was not so great! Going to the gym in the morning presents some challenges with my blood sugar. I need to get up early enough to eat and, even then, I'm not up for a strenous workout. I don't have all day to stabilize my blood sugar with meals and snacks before diving in to my exercise. I don't really want to eat anything too heavy or I drag through my workout. I crawled out of my warm nest, put on some workout clothes, grabbed a protein bar and headed out. It was a beautiful dawn as I staggered to the car half awake. I put on some Kutlass and turned the volume up loud. This was no time for soft praise songs. No - what I needed was a jolt of music.
I stopped at my house on the way to the gym to pick up the toaster. I pulled in to the back drive way, completely unaware that my parents had come in late the night before. Their dog met me at the back door happy to see a conscious person. Well, partially conscious.
I stepped in to the gym about 5:50 a.m., patting myself on the back for actually getting there on time and ready to go. Only a few people had risen to that challenge themselves as the numbers were sparce. Even PT looked marginally awake. I can't remember exactly what my training session included. I'm sure I "felt the burn" and worked on the core, but I must have been on autopilot. I had engaged in very little physical activity most of the week. Moving out of the dorms and into the hotel room was about the sum of my movement during Annual Conference. Sitting in the visitor's section at Annual Conference has it's advantages as we were near the door as I could make a quiet exit to get more coffee.
I had been given the opportunity to teach the creative offering to our CCYM youth for the Ordination Service on Friday night of Annual Conference. It is always a privilege to be asked to part of this amazing worship time. The clergy process in regaled in full robes to a booming organ. The sanctuary is filled to capacity as family, friends, mentors and guests share in the celebration of ordination. Many of those being commissioned or ordained have answered the call and worked for years to discern God's calling on their lives to ministry. As we tell the youth, it is a BIG deal.
We had practiced for hours and they were very prepared. There are always some rocky moments as we learn and practice the song. Some of the youth have never seen, much less been a part of, a liturgical movement. It requires patience and flexibility as I try to translate what God has placed in my heart and head into what will physically work with fifteen teenagers. There were several moments of levity during practice which is one of the many blessings of working with teenagers. The CCYM youth and adults had been hard at work since Monday evening and, at times, it looked more like a lethargical movement, but we persevered. They offered their prayer for guidance with such grace that I was in awe. Literally. They were so proud of themselves and I was so proud of them. A bunch of teenagers that had come together five days ago and had grown together so closely that you saw one group, not fifteen individuals.
Ice cream had been promised and the youth were eager to let relax and have some time at the pool. The cars transported us to a place of milk and honey -- OK, a place with ice cream and hot fudge. I may have undone some of my hard work, but I enjoyed ice cream with them and it was wonderful!
The Bishop gave the benediction to end Annual Conference on Saturday and I was home by noon. It had been a chaotic, renewing week and I was exhausted. I napped until supper and went to bed shortly after. Sunday would dawn early and I was looking forward to being in worship with my church family.
As hectice as the week had been, I was glad that I had taken the time to get in my training sessions. I have found exercise to be a great stress reliever for me and having that time away made it easier for me to focus at my meetings. In the same way, making time for God through prayer, scripture and stillness makes it possible for me to seek first the Kingdom of God and go to him with my stress, worries and burdens.
I serve on the Conference Council on Youth Ministry in our Dakotas United Methodist Conference. I have the opportunity to work with youth and other adults, planning and hosting events to offer Christ to the youth of the Dakotas. It's excited to see a group like this come together, enjoy fellowship, late night conversation and work for a common purpose of furthering the Kingdom of God in our midst.
The week before Annual Conference, I was in the gym with my personal trainer (PT) for one session. PT had been away and I had been left to my own devices. Apparently my devices were on target as the first training session with PT was not as much of a struggle as I had feared. However, I needed to get into my stride and boldly decided to keep my training sessions during Summer Meeting and Annual Conference.
We began Summer Meeting on Monday evening with supper. It was great to reconnect with my friends and meet the new youth CCYM members. Our meetings were held at the University of Mary south of Bismarck. It is a beautiful, peaceful place with a great board room that overlooks the river. Moving into the dorms reminded me why adults don't live in dorms. I didn't have to share a room, but it's not quite home. The temperature was chilly and I got up during the night to put on more clothes, socks and a sweatshirt.
It was rainy and gloomy on Tuesday, and I drove over from the dorms to the meeting room/dining hall instead of getting some fresh air and exercise. Another reminder of how nice it is that my dining room is in the same building as my bedroom.
Mid-morning, I was frantically trying to get a veterinary appointment for my dog, Lucy. She had an adverse reaction to some generic flea and tick serum I had applied on Monday before she had gone to the dog sitter's house. I was blessed with friends who helped out by driving her to my house and bathing a 140+ pound dog who did not particularly want to be bathed.
My training session went very well. PT led me through a "bootcamp style" workout, combining four or five different elements in three repititions of the cycle. I was feeling pretty good as I biked through my cool down. I would have skipped out of the gym if my PT hadn't asked me to come in on Thursday at 6:00 a.m. Yes, in the morning. Yikes!
Wednesday, we moved into the hotel for Annual Conference. We enjoyed a nice sit down meal and attended an orientation session. The youth were given free time and I enjoyed visiting with old friends. The youth were great and everyone was settled by 11 p.m.
When my alarm went off at 4:45 a.m., it was not so great! Going to the gym in the morning presents some challenges with my blood sugar. I need to get up early enough to eat and, even then, I'm not up for a strenous workout. I don't have all day to stabilize my blood sugar with meals and snacks before diving in to my exercise. I don't really want to eat anything too heavy or I drag through my workout. I crawled out of my warm nest, put on some workout clothes, grabbed a protein bar and headed out. It was a beautiful dawn as I staggered to the car half awake. I put on some Kutlass and turned the volume up loud. This was no time for soft praise songs. No - what I needed was a jolt of music.
I stopped at my house on the way to the gym to pick up the toaster. I pulled in to the back drive way, completely unaware that my parents had come in late the night before. Their dog met me at the back door happy to see a conscious person. Well, partially conscious.
I stepped in to the gym about 5:50 a.m., patting myself on the back for actually getting there on time and ready to go. Only a few people had risen to that challenge themselves as the numbers were sparce. Even PT looked marginally awake. I can't remember exactly what my training session included. I'm sure I "felt the burn" and worked on the core, but I must have been on autopilot. I had engaged in very little physical activity most of the week. Moving out of the dorms and into the hotel room was about the sum of my movement during Annual Conference. Sitting in the visitor's section at Annual Conference has it's advantages as we were near the door as I could make a quiet exit to get more coffee.
I had been given the opportunity to teach the creative offering to our CCYM youth for the Ordination Service on Friday night of Annual Conference. It is always a privilege to be asked to part of this amazing worship time. The clergy process in regaled in full robes to a booming organ. The sanctuary is filled to capacity as family, friends, mentors and guests share in the celebration of ordination. Many of those being commissioned or ordained have answered the call and worked for years to discern God's calling on their lives to ministry. As we tell the youth, it is a BIG deal.
We had practiced for hours and they were very prepared. There are always some rocky moments as we learn and practice the song. Some of the youth have never seen, much less been a part of, a liturgical movement. It requires patience and flexibility as I try to translate what God has placed in my heart and head into what will physically work with fifteen teenagers. There were several moments of levity during practice which is one of the many blessings of working with teenagers. The CCYM youth and adults had been hard at work since Monday evening and, at times, it looked more like a lethargical movement, but we persevered. They offered their prayer for guidance with such grace that I was in awe. Literally. They were so proud of themselves and I was so proud of them. A bunch of teenagers that had come together five days ago and had grown together so closely that you saw one group, not fifteen individuals.
Ice cream had been promised and the youth were eager to let relax and have some time at the pool. The cars transported us to a place of milk and honey -- OK, a place with ice cream and hot fudge. I may have undone some of my hard work, but I enjoyed ice cream with them and it was wonderful!
The Bishop gave the benediction to end Annual Conference on Saturday and I was home by noon. It had been a chaotic, renewing week and I was exhausted. I napped until supper and went to bed shortly after. Sunday would dawn early and I was looking forward to being in worship with my church family.
As hectice as the week had been, I was glad that I had taken the time to get in my training sessions. I have found exercise to be a great stress reliever for me and having that time away made it easier for me to focus at my meetings. In the same way, making time for God through prayer, scripture and stillness makes it possible for me to seek first the Kingdom of God and go to him with my stress, worries and burdens.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Week 8: Cardio and Cake
This week included some interesting elements. My Personal Trainer (PT) was away and I was left to my own devices in the gym. I do not like being in the gym by myself. I prefer to work out with my PT or exercise partner. I feel better when I am with someone who knows that my inability to complete simple sentences is a sign of low blood sugar. However, if I do have to go alone, I choose a time when there are other people at the gym. My PT had texted me an exercise plan and my gym time was like a military exercise - get in, get it done and get out! I look forward to once again exercising under the watchful guidance of PT or the company of an exercise partner.
It was also the weekend of the Graduation Open Houses. As a church youth workers, I have the privilege of walking with children and teenagers through an important, formative time in their lives. It is filled with joy and laughter, and occasionally, tears and sadness. I get to be part of the best and the worst of their lives. I am truly blessed. I also get to be part of their family celebrations, including Graduation.
The Graduation Open House is a phenomenon in which a young adult's family throws a huge bash, inviting all of their friends, family and anyone who stumbles in off the street, feeding them copious amounts of food. It is often punctuated by the hosts' plea to "eat more food". What are we as gracious guests to do?!?
The Graduation Open House presents many challenges for those of us trying to get the scale to move backwards. The Open House always includes the graduates' favorite foods such as meatballs and cookie salad. I attended an Open House last year and it was apparent that grandma had been cooking for six months to feed a crowd roughly the population of Pennsylvania. Grandma guided me firmly by the arm to the buffet table and opened each roaster full of amazing German food. When I tried to decline her offering, she defended her position by saying, "It's all good for you. I made it with cream and eggs and butter and ...". How can you argue with logic like that?!?
I was invited to five Graduation Open Houses for the Class of 2013. I had a warm up on the weekend before Graduation and navigated the food with my dietician's voice in my head, "remember, if it tastes good, spit it out". The food offered was amazing and I hadn't had lunch, so I enjoyed the pulled pork and some fruit pizza. What? It has the word "fruit" in it?
The following Saturday the other four Open Houses were held between noon and 6:00 p.m. I got up, had a healthy breakfast, went to the gym for some cardio, came home and enjoyed a light, healthy lunch. My game plan was: only one piece of cake, fruit and veggies whenever I could find them and a sampling of family favorites. Bring on the parties!
The afternoon did not disappoint, traveling from one table laden with wonderful food to the next. They all included appetizers, salads and, of course, cake. All the food looked wonderful. There was a great diversity in the offering and each crockpot held something delicious. Many of the parties had pulled pork.
One year, I had seven Graduation Open Houses to attend. Every Open House served sloppy joes. A great food to serve a crowd and a very economical choice, to be sure. I couldn't look at sloppy joes for about six months after that.
All of the families were wonderful hosts, catering to our every need and making sure that you had gotten enough to eat. It was the typical May day on the prairie, breezy with a storm promised later. At one house, we sat out on the deck and enjoyed the sunshine while it still shined. Graduation in our town is typically done outside. When the weather does not cooperate, the ceremony is moved in to the high school gym and seating becomes a premium. Each graduate is alloted four tickets. If their immediate family includes more than four people, choices have to be made. OK, well Mom gets to come because she birthed you. Dad gets to come because he's married to mom. Now what do you do with siblings and grandparents? My prayers are with those families!
I arrived home about three hours a bit tired from all the celebrating and proud for the amazing people my "kids" have become. My "kids" and I have spent many hours together on road trips, retreats, concerts and lock ins. I know their preferences, their struggles and their families. I have sat up with them laughing, snacking and dancing late into the night. I have prayed them through tough decisions, bad choices and amazing comebacks! Now comes the hard part - watching them fly. I know that God has His hand over them and He's got a plan for their lives. It will be a joy to watch them learn, grow and celebrate their future accomplishments, weddings and children. And all of those celebrations will be sweet because there might be cake there!
It was also the weekend of the Graduation Open Houses. As a church youth workers, I have the privilege of walking with children and teenagers through an important, formative time in their lives. It is filled with joy and laughter, and occasionally, tears and sadness. I get to be part of the best and the worst of their lives. I am truly blessed. I also get to be part of their family celebrations, including Graduation.
The Graduation Open House is a phenomenon in which a young adult's family throws a huge bash, inviting all of their friends, family and anyone who stumbles in off the street, feeding them copious amounts of food. It is often punctuated by the hosts' plea to "eat more food". What are we as gracious guests to do?!?
The Graduation Open House presents many challenges for those of us trying to get the scale to move backwards. The Open House always includes the graduates' favorite foods such as meatballs and cookie salad. I attended an Open House last year and it was apparent that grandma had been cooking for six months to feed a crowd roughly the population of Pennsylvania. Grandma guided me firmly by the arm to the buffet table and opened each roaster full of amazing German food. When I tried to decline her offering, she defended her position by saying, "It's all good for you. I made it with cream and eggs and butter and ...". How can you argue with logic like that?!?
I was invited to five Graduation Open Houses for the Class of 2013. I had a warm up on the weekend before Graduation and navigated the food with my dietician's voice in my head, "remember, if it tastes good, spit it out". The food offered was amazing and I hadn't had lunch, so I enjoyed the pulled pork and some fruit pizza. What? It has the word "fruit" in it?
The following Saturday the other four Open Houses were held between noon and 6:00 p.m. I got up, had a healthy breakfast, went to the gym for some cardio, came home and enjoyed a light, healthy lunch. My game plan was: only one piece of cake, fruit and veggies whenever I could find them and a sampling of family favorites. Bring on the parties!
The afternoon did not disappoint, traveling from one table laden with wonderful food to the next. They all included appetizers, salads and, of course, cake. All the food looked wonderful. There was a great diversity in the offering and each crockpot held something delicious. Many of the parties had pulled pork.
One year, I had seven Graduation Open Houses to attend. Every Open House served sloppy joes. A great food to serve a crowd and a very economical choice, to be sure. I couldn't look at sloppy joes for about six months after that.
All of the families were wonderful hosts, catering to our every need and making sure that you had gotten enough to eat. It was the typical May day on the prairie, breezy with a storm promised later. At one house, we sat out on the deck and enjoyed the sunshine while it still shined. Graduation in our town is typically done outside. When the weather does not cooperate, the ceremony is moved in to the high school gym and seating becomes a premium. Each graduate is alloted four tickets. If their immediate family includes more than four people, choices have to be made. OK, well Mom gets to come because she birthed you. Dad gets to come because he's married to mom. Now what do you do with siblings and grandparents? My prayers are with those families!
I arrived home about three hours a bit tired from all the celebrating and proud for the amazing people my "kids" have become. My "kids" and I have spent many hours together on road trips, retreats, concerts and lock ins. I know their preferences, their struggles and their families. I have sat up with them laughing, snacking and dancing late into the night. I have prayed them through tough decisions, bad choices and amazing comebacks! Now comes the hard part - watching them fly. I know that God has His hand over them and He's got a plan for their lives. It will be a joy to watch them learn, grow and celebrate their future accomplishments, weddings and children. And all of those celebrations will be sweet because there might be cake there!
Monday, May 20, 2013
Week 7: On Your Marks...
Our North Dakota spring weather has been a bit unpredictable, to put it mildly. Our huge April snowfall delayed our May showers and we haven't been able to string together any sort of stable weather pattern. I leave the house in the morning in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, only to roast when the temperature hits eighty degrees by noon. I brazenly wore sandals and capris to a sand volleyball league meeting and drove home with the heat on my frozen toes.
When I lived in Wisconsin, my coworkers would joke with me about how windy it is on my beloved prairie. Their favorite question was "what happens to the people in North Dakota when the wind stops blowing? They fall over!" Tuesday morning was covered by a high wind alert and I was sure that I would look "windblown" all day. I was in for a pleasant surprise when it was merely breezy by the late afternoon. The sun was shining and my personal trainer (PT) decided that we should go outside for some warm up and cardio.
I am sorry to admit that I have come to rely upon lunges and squats as great stretches before I move into anything more vigorous. They also serve as a great barometer for my arthritic knees. If my knees are sore, we need to take longer to warm up and amend the work out.
On Tuesday, I was painfree and up for anything. PT decided that I would run a bit and I was pretty excited. Yes, I know that I have openly mocked those who claim they love to run. I held two firm reasons for my mocking: 1. Humans should only run if you are being chased; especially if you are being chased by bears. 2. God did not put us at the top of the food chain so we had to run. As hard as this is for me to admit... you were right. It is enjoyable. I will never be a marathon runner; maybe not even a 5K competitor. But I am finding that I enjoy the new challenge.
PT had me walk as much as I ran. I would run from one direction and he would walk to meet me from the other direction. It was a beautiful day to be outside and I think the neighbors enjoyed watching me run around the block and walk back the other direction.
Let me make it clear that I do not have the stamina or rhythymn of a runner yet. I'm sure it looks more like I am being chased by bears when I run. I haven't found my stride. I'm not even sure my stride is out there to be found. I guess that will remains to be seen.
Back in the gym, it was lots of resistance training and core on the floor. I work hard for about 35 minutes and cool down for 5 minutes. I have seen progress in the weeks since I started at the gym. I don't stumble out to the car after a work out just happy to get home before my knees buckle. I am energized and often take up my least favorite chores with enthusiasm after my exercises.
I was at my doctor's office last week and am happy to report that I have lost over 35 pounds since my diabetes diagnosis (sorry for the shameless bragging!). Giving all the glory to God for his hand in my diet and exercise! I have very little willpower and my history with exercise has been a love/hate relationship. I really don't have a hard time passing up sweets most of the time. Of course, I do enjoy treats every once in a while and sometimes I just really need ice cream! Oh, speaking of ice cream. I also saw my dietician last week also. ( My dietician is an amazing lady who has cheered me through the months since my diagnosis. She works hard to make my eating healthy and enjoyable. She always has great ideas on how to enjoy a treat without sabotaging my diet. Most of her suggestions are great. A couple... well, not so much. She once told me that sugar free pudding frozen tastes just like ice cream. Of course, this leads me to believe that she has never eaten ice cream before in her life! It's not even close in my book. Bless her heart!
Anyway, although my blood sugars are still a bit unpredictable, I haven't crashed and burned for several weeks. I am still very vigilant about my eating and blood sugar, but I am more confident than I have been for quite some time.
I wasn't back in the gym until Saturday last week as PT was sick and I was busy with end of the school year celebrations at church. Saturday trips to the gym are cardio work outs. It feels good to walk out of the gym sweaty after a good hour of biking, elliptical and treadmill.
I play sand volleyball on a church league during the summers and have been itching to get into the sand and play. Our Saturday practice was rained out and moved to Wendy's when the thunder and lighting chased us from the court. Sunday's games were called on account of the sand volleyball courts are now home to small pools of water. I didn't miss freezing and coming home wet and very dirty.
The next week is filled with opportunities to celebrate with my high school senior youth group members as they graduate and begin a new chapter in their lives. I enjoy going to the open houses, visiting with friends and watching these young people with admiration at the amazing men and women they have become. I can remember these young people when they were in my first vacation bible school preschool/kindergarten class. The young men tower over me now and make me feel a bit older than I used to be. I am so impressed by how kind, considerate and compassionate these amazing people are. What a blessing to be a part of their lives. I look forward to seeing what paths the Lord will lead them down. No matter where they go and how old they grow, they are always "my kids".
OK, I'll admit it... I am also looking forward to scoring a piece of graduation cake. I'm sure my dietician would tell me that the raw veggie and fruit salad taste just as wonderful as cake. However, she will not be there and I will never tell.
When I lived in Wisconsin, my coworkers would joke with me about how windy it is on my beloved prairie. Their favorite question was "what happens to the people in North Dakota when the wind stops blowing? They fall over!" Tuesday morning was covered by a high wind alert and I was sure that I would look "windblown" all day. I was in for a pleasant surprise when it was merely breezy by the late afternoon. The sun was shining and my personal trainer (PT) decided that we should go outside for some warm up and cardio.
I am sorry to admit that I have come to rely upon lunges and squats as great stretches before I move into anything more vigorous. They also serve as a great barometer for my arthritic knees. If my knees are sore, we need to take longer to warm up and amend the work out.
On Tuesday, I was painfree and up for anything. PT decided that I would run a bit and I was pretty excited. Yes, I know that I have openly mocked those who claim they love to run. I held two firm reasons for my mocking: 1. Humans should only run if you are being chased; especially if you are being chased by bears. 2. God did not put us at the top of the food chain so we had to run. As hard as this is for me to admit... you were right. It is enjoyable. I will never be a marathon runner; maybe not even a 5K competitor. But I am finding that I enjoy the new challenge.
PT had me walk as much as I ran. I would run from one direction and he would walk to meet me from the other direction. It was a beautiful day to be outside and I think the neighbors enjoyed watching me run around the block and walk back the other direction.
Let me make it clear that I do not have the stamina or rhythymn of a runner yet. I'm sure it looks more like I am being chased by bears when I run. I haven't found my stride. I'm not even sure my stride is out there to be found. I guess that will remains to be seen.
Back in the gym, it was lots of resistance training and core on the floor. I work hard for about 35 minutes and cool down for 5 minutes. I have seen progress in the weeks since I started at the gym. I don't stumble out to the car after a work out just happy to get home before my knees buckle. I am energized and often take up my least favorite chores with enthusiasm after my exercises.
I was at my doctor's office last week and am happy to report that I have lost over 35 pounds since my diabetes diagnosis (sorry for the shameless bragging!). Giving all the glory to God for his hand in my diet and exercise! I have very little willpower and my history with exercise has been a love/hate relationship. I really don't have a hard time passing up sweets most of the time. Of course, I do enjoy treats every once in a while and sometimes I just really need ice cream! Oh, speaking of ice cream. I also saw my dietician last week also. ( My dietician is an amazing lady who has cheered me through the months since my diagnosis. She works hard to make my eating healthy and enjoyable. She always has great ideas on how to enjoy a treat without sabotaging my diet. Most of her suggestions are great. A couple... well, not so much. She once told me that sugar free pudding frozen tastes just like ice cream. Of course, this leads me to believe that she has never eaten ice cream before in her life! It's not even close in my book. Bless her heart!
Anyway, although my blood sugars are still a bit unpredictable, I haven't crashed and burned for several weeks. I am still very vigilant about my eating and blood sugar, but I am more confident than I have been for quite some time.
I wasn't back in the gym until Saturday last week as PT was sick and I was busy with end of the school year celebrations at church. Saturday trips to the gym are cardio work outs. It feels good to walk out of the gym sweaty after a good hour of biking, elliptical and treadmill.
I play sand volleyball on a church league during the summers and have been itching to get into the sand and play. Our Saturday practice was rained out and moved to Wendy's when the thunder and lighting chased us from the court. Sunday's games were called on account of the sand volleyball courts are now home to small pools of water. I didn't miss freezing and coming home wet and very dirty.
The next week is filled with opportunities to celebrate with my high school senior youth group members as they graduate and begin a new chapter in their lives. I enjoy going to the open houses, visiting with friends and watching these young people with admiration at the amazing men and women they have become. I can remember these young people when they were in my first vacation bible school preschool/kindergarten class. The young men tower over me now and make me feel a bit older than I used to be. I am so impressed by how kind, considerate and compassionate these amazing people are. What a blessing to be a part of their lives. I look forward to seeing what paths the Lord will lead them down. No matter where they go and how old they grow, they are always "my kids".
OK, I'll admit it... I am also looking forward to scoring a piece of graduation cake. I'm sure my dietician would tell me that the raw veggie and fruit salad taste just as wonderful as cake. However, she will not be there and I will never tell.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Week 6: Ramping It UP
As promised previously, my personal trainer (PT) racheted up my training last week. We had been languishing on weight machines, rowing machines, exercise bikes and core exercises on the floor. I know that all of these exercises are important and the increase my strength and endurance. After my unfortunate blood sugar diving incident, PT had been cautious about increasing my work outs until we knew what my gluocse levels were going to do. However, I was ready for something a bit more challenging. PT did not disappoint.
I was in the gym Tuesday with a potential exercise partner, we began our warm up on the bikes as PT did a quick assessment to determine their fitness level. We were off for lunges, squats and variations of the theme with weights. We jumped on the bikes (OK, maybe I gingerly sat down) midway through the workout for a quick break so I could catch my breath and check my blood sugar. After both were successfully completed, we were off for some core on the floor. Man, I cannot wait until the day when that gets easier! After "planks", holding yourself up with your forearms and toes, everything burns. It even hurts to breathe! Who knew getting healthy could be so painful?!?
I was sufficiently sweaty and tired after my Tuesday workout, but I was pleased that I was once again pushing my fitness level.
Wednesday dawned early with my faithful canine companion, Lucy, jumping on the bed at 6:07 a.m. to wake me up. I would like to say that she was impatient for my company, but she really wants to be fed. As I sat up, I was reminded what post-work out feels like. I stumbled down the stairs after Lucy and realized that the muscles in my hips and everything south were very tight. I did some stretches, took some ibuprofen and headed out to face the day. Sitting down was painful and standing was painful, which doesn't leave a lot of other alternatives. It was a good hurt, though; one that reminded me that I am making progress.
Thursday started much the same as Wednesday. Usually I feel more pain two days after a heavy work out and that rule held true. Throughout the day, I walked while I was on the phone and stretched when possible. It was a beautiful day, so PT took me outside for some lunges and squats. If any of you are short on entertainment, you could set up lawn chairs across the street from my gym and rate my warm up. I can see it now "9.2", "6.8"! Anyway, my hips were really sore and we retreated to the gym for some more intense stretching that includes PT doing the stretching and me gritting my teeth as I wait for relief. It worked, though, so we worked on weights, alternating with biking and core on the floor. My cool times have gotten shorter and I was out of the gym and on my way to my next meeting in no time.
I returned to the gym on Saturday for about an hour of cardio and stretching. I shake my head as I write that the warm up stretches that work the best for me are --- squats and lunges. PT told me that this is some of the best exercises and he likes to use them. Well, I like ice cream, but I have to settle for squats and lunges! I left the gym feeling great and ready to tackle the rest of the day.
My weight loss has been steady during my time in the gym. I rely upon my doctors and dietician's appointments to get weighed as I do not own a scale. As a recovering anorexic, having a scale can be a dangerous weapon to me. That number can dictate my mood and eating habits and that is a slippery slope. I don't need a scale as I can use my clothes as a good measuring tool. I am currently wearing three different sizes, depending on the garment. It's exciting to wear clothes that have been hibernating in the back of my closet for years! I look in the mirror and see myself coming in to focus.
As a recovering eating disorders patient, I have a very distorted view of body images - my own and other people's. Every couple of years I stumble across pictures taken when I was at my lowest weights - around 85 pounds - and am sorry to say that I don't think that I look too bad. Other people would be shocked by those images, I'm sure, but I did not see it then and I still struggle to see it now.
My new found confidence has been hard fought. I see people in the gym who are fighting the battle too. They may struggle to find the courage to get into their exercise clothes, go to the gym and get on the bike or the tread mill and work hard to get healthy. They may be self-conscious about their fitness level, but they are doing it! They are going several times a week and working hard to reach their goals. My PT has worked hard to help me reach my own goals. Having an exercise partner will help me reach my goals. And, above all, I give God the glory for giving me the courage and the health to take that step every day.
I was in the gym Tuesday with a potential exercise partner, we began our warm up on the bikes as PT did a quick assessment to determine their fitness level. We were off for lunges, squats and variations of the theme with weights. We jumped on the bikes (OK, maybe I gingerly sat down) midway through the workout for a quick break so I could catch my breath and check my blood sugar. After both were successfully completed, we were off for some core on the floor. Man, I cannot wait until the day when that gets easier! After "planks", holding yourself up with your forearms and toes, everything burns. It even hurts to breathe! Who knew getting healthy could be so painful?!?
I was sufficiently sweaty and tired after my Tuesday workout, but I was pleased that I was once again pushing my fitness level.
Wednesday dawned early with my faithful canine companion, Lucy, jumping on the bed at 6:07 a.m. to wake me up. I would like to say that she was impatient for my company, but she really wants to be fed. As I sat up, I was reminded what post-work out feels like. I stumbled down the stairs after Lucy and realized that the muscles in my hips and everything south were very tight. I did some stretches, took some ibuprofen and headed out to face the day. Sitting down was painful and standing was painful, which doesn't leave a lot of other alternatives. It was a good hurt, though; one that reminded me that I am making progress.
Thursday started much the same as Wednesday. Usually I feel more pain two days after a heavy work out and that rule held true. Throughout the day, I walked while I was on the phone and stretched when possible. It was a beautiful day, so PT took me outside for some lunges and squats. If any of you are short on entertainment, you could set up lawn chairs across the street from my gym and rate my warm up. I can see it now "9.2", "6.8"! Anyway, my hips were really sore and we retreated to the gym for some more intense stretching that includes PT doing the stretching and me gritting my teeth as I wait for relief. It worked, though, so we worked on weights, alternating with biking and core on the floor. My cool times have gotten shorter and I was out of the gym and on my way to my next meeting in no time.
I returned to the gym on Saturday for about an hour of cardio and stretching. I shake my head as I write that the warm up stretches that work the best for me are --- squats and lunges. PT told me that this is some of the best exercises and he likes to use them. Well, I like ice cream, but I have to settle for squats and lunges! I left the gym feeling great and ready to tackle the rest of the day.
My weight loss has been steady during my time in the gym. I rely upon my doctors and dietician's appointments to get weighed as I do not own a scale. As a recovering anorexic, having a scale can be a dangerous weapon to me. That number can dictate my mood and eating habits and that is a slippery slope. I don't need a scale as I can use my clothes as a good measuring tool. I am currently wearing three different sizes, depending on the garment. It's exciting to wear clothes that have been hibernating in the back of my closet for years! I look in the mirror and see myself coming in to focus.
As a recovering eating disorders patient, I have a very distorted view of body images - my own and other people's. Every couple of years I stumble across pictures taken when I was at my lowest weights - around 85 pounds - and am sorry to say that I don't think that I look too bad. Other people would be shocked by those images, I'm sure, but I did not see it then and I still struggle to see it now.
My new found confidence has been hard fought. I see people in the gym who are fighting the battle too. They may struggle to find the courage to get into their exercise clothes, go to the gym and get on the bike or the tread mill and work hard to get healthy. They may be self-conscious about their fitness level, but they are doing it! They are going several times a week and working hard to reach their goals. My PT has worked hard to help me reach my own goals. Having an exercise partner will help me reach my goals. And, above all, I give God the glory for giving me the courage and the health to take that step every day.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Week 5: Back on Track
My fifth week of training began on Sunday with a 5K. The Mandan High School's S.A.D.D. (Students Against Destructive Decisions) Chapter was raising money for educational experiences and it was the perfect opportunity to gauge my stamina. Sunday was a bit breezy (for non-North Dakotans that means 25 mph winds), but it wasn't cold. I was walking alone which made me a bit nervous. However, a quick poke and my blood sugar told me I was good to go.
The run/walk was a 5K or a 10 K. Five K is about 3.2 miles to those non-metric folk. Many families came to walk or run together. The walkers included older adults, mothers pushing strollers and high school students.
The runners began the race with the walking herd following behind them. I picked a nice, brisk pace passing a several walkers. With my earbuds in and my MP3 tuned to some upbeat music, I enjoyed the walk on a beautiful North Dakota spring day.
The route went from NISC on the outskirts of Mandan to Collins, a major north/south road in Mandan and back to NISC. There are some impressive inclines which set my heart to beating and my lungs to breathing. About halfway to the turnaround point, I met the 5K runners on their way back. There is a steady uphill climb on the way back to the finish line. I was still trudging along at a respectable pace, keeping left to let the runners go past me. I could hear the finish line before I could see it. There were no cheering crowds to motivate me forward but I did pick up the pace for the 100 yards. My finishing time was 1:05:35 - 1 hour, five minutes and 35 seconds. About 20 minutes per mile. That was my best time ever!!! Of course, it was my only time, but who's keeping track?!?
I was surprised that I felt really good. My blood sugar was a bit low, but I grabbed a sports drink on the way out of the parking lot.
Monday's church exercise class did a three mile DVD and although I was sweaty, it wasn't impossible. Seeing how far I have come in this short time motivates me to stick with it.
I have always found that my diet is easier to follow if I am exercising to. I have to want that ice cream/cake/dessert pretty bad if I am willing to use my carb exchanges to have it. I also know that I will need to burn that off at some point. However, some things are worth the splurge! My exercise regimen is easier to stick to because I have "in your face" accountability at the gym. If I didn't move my lazy body off the couch all weekend, I'm going to pay for that with my personal trainer (PT) come Tuesday afternoon.
What I was unprepared for was the realization that discipline in my diet and exercise has carried over into other parts of my life. I am becoming more disciplined in my spiritual life, finding more balance between work and personal time and even find money management to be easier. I take more credit for these facts - God needs the glory for setting these things into motion (literally and figuratively). I struggle with self-discipline and I believe that this is the answer to prayer.
Back at the gym on Tuesday, PT set a brisk pace and I was happy to be breathless and sweaty. PT has gradually stepped up the workouts after the "big crash" and I have impatiently waited for more challenging exercises. This is the calm before the storm, I guess.
PT led me through weights for my arms and some interval training on the bike. A minute of fast pedaling followed by a minute of slower pedaling. I even faced the beast - elliptical machine - again. I haven't climbed on the beast for a couple of weeks. It seriously kicks my backside, but it's a great cardio work out. I look forward to the day when I can jump on and go for 20 minutes at a time without a paramedic standing by.
I am back to doing "core on the floor", a phrase that should strike terror in anyone who knows what that means. Core exercises strengthen your core muscles - abdominals, etc. They include crunches, planks and many other moves that look like a dying cockroach to those spectators working away at the treadmills right next to me. I write this only partially in jest as I have watched others do these exercises and there is no graceful way to execute them.
I have observed that people are more real at the gym than they are elsewhere in polite society. You really can't hold in your stomach and try to look thinner when you are on the floor doing core exercises. Don't bother with hair or make up as any real workout will make this a huge waste of time. Your best bet is to pull your hair back and wipe the mascara off so you don't smear it all over while wiping away sweat. Oh, yeah -- people at the gym sweat. Few perspire. Take that, ladies deodorant makers!
Thursday, PT told me to expect to ramp up the work out the following week. We will do 15 minutes of weights, etc and 15 to 20 minutes of hard work. I am excited, nervous and a little scared. I am confident that we have successfully navigated the blood sugar speed bump. However, as a precaution, I will be carrying my glucometer with me and checking my sugars mid-work out. My snacks about an hour and a half before exercise need to be a bit lighter as I would prefer not to have the contents of my stomach make an encore appearance!
As I thought through my nervousness, I came to the epiphany that I trust PT to keep me safe (and conscious), so I will surrender to the process and hope that surrender will seep into other areas of my life also. To surrender to our God means trusting that He will keep you safe and conscious of the work that He is doing in our lives. Say a prayer for me as I jump in with both feet!
The run/walk was a 5K or a 10 K. Five K is about 3.2 miles to those non-metric folk. Many families came to walk or run together. The walkers included older adults, mothers pushing strollers and high school students.
The runners began the race with the walking herd following behind them. I picked a nice, brisk pace passing a several walkers. With my earbuds in and my MP3 tuned to some upbeat music, I enjoyed the walk on a beautiful North Dakota spring day.
The route went from NISC on the outskirts of Mandan to Collins, a major north/south road in Mandan and back to NISC. There are some impressive inclines which set my heart to beating and my lungs to breathing. About halfway to the turnaround point, I met the 5K runners on their way back. There is a steady uphill climb on the way back to the finish line. I was still trudging along at a respectable pace, keeping left to let the runners go past me. I could hear the finish line before I could see it. There were no cheering crowds to motivate me forward but I did pick up the pace for the 100 yards. My finishing time was 1:05:35 - 1 hour, five minutes and 35 seconds. About 20 minutes per mile. That was my best time ever!!! Of course, it was my only time, but who's keeping track?!?
I was surprised that I felt really good. My blood sugar was a bit low, but I grabbed a sports drink on the way out of the parking lot.
Monday's church exercise class did a three mile DVD and although I was sweaty, it wasn't impossible. Seeing how far I have come in this short time motivates me to stick with it.
I have always found that my diet is easier to follow if I am exercising to. I have to want that ice cream/cake/dessert pretty bad if I am willing to use my carb exchanges to have it. I also know that I will need to burn that off at some point. However, some things are worth the splurge! My exercise regimen is easier to stick to because I have "in your face" accountability at the gym. If I didn't move my lazy body off the couch all weekend, I'm going to pay for that with my personal trainer (PT) come Tuesday afternoon.
What I was unprepared for was the realization that discipline in my diet and exercise has carried over into other parts of my life. I am becoming more disciplined in my spiritual life, finding more balance between work and personal time and even find money management to be easier. I take more credit for these facts - God needs the glory for setting these things into motion (literally and figuratively). I struggle with self-discipline and I believe that this is the answer to prayer.
Back at the gym on Tuesday, PT set a brisk pace and I was happy to be breathless and sweaty. PT has gradually stepped up the workouts after the "big crash" and I have impatiently waited for more challenging exercises. This is the calm before the storm, I guess.
PT led me through weights for my arms and some interval training on the bike. A minute of fast pedaling followed by a minute of slower pedaling. I even faced the beast - elliptical machine - again. I haven't climbed on the beast for a couple of weeks. It seriously kicks my backside, but it's a great cardio work out. I look forward to the day when I can jump on and go for 20 minutes at a time without a paramedic standing by.
I am back to doing "core on the floor", a phrase that should strike terror in anyone who knows what that means. Core exercises strengthen your core muscles - abdominals, etc. They include crunches, planks and many other moves that look like a dying cockroach to those spectators working away at the treadmills right next to me. I write this only partially in jest as I have watched others do these exercises and there is no graceful way to execute them.
I have observed that people are more real at the gym than they are elsewhere in polite society. You really can't hold in your stomach and try to look thinner when you are on the floor doing core exercises. Don't bother with hair or make up as any real workout will make this a huge waste of time. Your best bet is to pull your hair back and wipe the mascara off so you don't smear it all over while wiping away sweat. Oh, yeah -- people at the gym sweat. Few perspire. Take that, ladies deodorant makers!
Thursday, PT told me to expect to ramp up the work out the following week. We will do 15 minutes of weights, etc and 15 to 20 minutes of hard work. I am excited, nervous and a little scared. I am confident that we have successfully navigated the blood sugar speed bump. However, as a precaution, I will be carrying my glucometer with me and checking my sugars mid-work out. My snacks about an hour and a half before exercise need to be a bit lighter as I would prefer not to have the contents of my stomach make an encore appearance!
As I thought through my nervousness, I came to the epiphany that I trust PT to keep me safe (and conscious), so I will surrender to the process and hope that surrender will seep into other areas of my life also. To surrender to our God means trusting that He will keep you safe and conscious of the work that He is doing in our lives. Say a prayer for me as I jump in with both feet!
Monday, April 29, 2013
Week Four: Feeling The Burn
Very few things are as perplexing to me as my blood sugar. I seriously thought that adding an exercise regimen to my diet would lower my blood sugar and all would be right with the world once again. NOT.
I am a member of an exercise group at our church. The intensity of our work outs vary depending on who shows up and how ambitious we feel. I had found that my blood sugar was lower after exercise class, so I was happy.
Now that I am getting an intense work out two to three times a week at the gym, it's like trying to hit a moving target. Some times my blood sugar goes up while I work out. Apparently after the body burns the glucose from the pre-exercise snack of simple carbs and protein, the liver kicks in with stored glucose to power you through your work out. The rest of the biology is too confusing for me to try to explain, even if I understood it.
Sometimes, my blood sugar goes down. Way down. To avoid meeting paramedics and the business end of a dextrose injection, I am planning my meals and snacks carefully. So far, so good.
My personal trainer (PT) backed off on the intensity of my work outs after the unfortunate blood sugar diving episode. Now we have been moving slowly back to work outs that leave me sore and out of breath. This week we began more core strengthening, weights and cardio. I am enjoying the challenge and am quite amazed at what a weakling I am! I now have no illusions of being fit. PT is working muscles that I didn't even know I had. I am, once again, waking each morning to a find out what hurts. And surprisingly enough, I missed that in the last couple of weeks. It is a good pain; a pain resulting from pushing myself to my limit and finding that it's a little farther than it was the week before.
We are proceeding with caution. After every component of my exercise, PT is asking "how does your head feel?". When blood sugar is low, my ability to reason or be rational is the first sign that things are going south. ( note to family and friends: my blood sugar is NOT always low!)
Once, after a long day at the office I ran to the big box store to exchange a gift. Long story short, the customer service person was less than sympathetic to my plight and I went in search of a manager for further assistance. This unfortunate man was witness to my rapidly tanking glucose level as I went from a rational adult to a crying puddle before his very eyes. Even I was a bit surprised by my behavior. It wasn't until I was in the car on the way home did it dawn on me that I hadn't had lunch and it was almost supper time. I avoided that store for a couple of weeks after that incident, afraid that my picture was hanging in the employee lounge under the words "Yikes! Approach with caution and kleenex!".
We are back on track and moving into exercises to strengthen my core muscles. Most of these exercises are generally hard and unpleasant. Planks are a great core strengthening exercise. You lay on your stomache on the floor and then hold up your weight with your toes and your forearms. I started at 30 seconds and am moving up from there. You feel the burn in your stomach and it hurts just to breath. I encourage you to give it a try.
My Saturday session with PT ended with core exercises on the floor. Scissoring your legs in the air while laying my back caused cramps in my thighs. PT assured me that when my core was in shape, the abdominal mucles would take over the work of my legs. Apparently yesterday was not that day! I felt pretty good when I got out of bed on Sunday morning. I didn't really notice my stomach muscles were sore until I started to sing praise choruses before worship. Using my diaphragm to sing made me thank my PT over and over during the half hour we sang and led worship.
And yet in the midst of my thanks and praise to our awesome Creator, I stopped to give a humble thank you for being able to have this experience. Having a PT who challenges me, patiently works with my wild blood sugar swings and motivates me want to work hard is a blessing. Watching myself "coming into focus" after a long time of mirror avoiding moments is a gift. Being able to share (and vent) to whoever cares to read this blog has made the process so much more fun!
Tune in next week as I relate my first 5K experience!
I am a member of an exercise group at our church. The intensity of our work outs vary depending on who shows up and how ambitious we feel. I had found that my blood sugar was lower after exercise class, so I was happy.
Now that I am getting an intense work out two to three times a week at the gym, it's like trying to hit a moving target. Some times my blood sugar goes up while I work out. Apparently after the body burns the glucose from the pre-exercise snack of simple carbs and protein, the liver kicks in with stored glucose to power you through your work out. The rest of the biology is too confusing for me to try to explain, even if I understood it.
Sometimes, my blood sugar goes down. Way down. To avoid meeting paramedics and the business end of a dextrose injection, I am planning my meals and snacks carefully. So far, so good.
My personal trainer (PT) backed off on the intensity of my work outs after the unfortunate blood sugar diving episode. Now we have been moving slowly back to work outs that leave me sore and out of breath. This week we began more core strengthening, weights and cardio. I am enjoying the challenge and am quite amazed at what a weakling I am! I now have no illusions of being fit. PT is working muscles that I didn't even know I had. I am, once again, waking each morning to a find out what hurts. And surprisingly enough, I missed that in the last couple of weeks. It is a good pain; a pain resulting from pushing myself to my limit and finding that it's a little farther than it was the week before.
We are proceeding with caution. After every component of my exercise, PT is asking "how does your head feel?". When blood sugar is low, my ability to reason or be rational is the first sign that things are going south. ( note to family and friends: my blood sugar is NOT always low!)
Once, after a long day at the office I ran to the big box store to exchange a gift. Long story short, the customer service person was less than sympathetic to my plight and I went in search of a manager for further assistance. This unfortunate man was witness to my rapidly tanking glucose level as I went from a rational adult to a crying puddle before his very eyes. Even I was a bit surprised by my behavior. It wasn't until I was in the car on the way home did it dawn on me that I hadn't had lunch and it was almost supper time. I avoided that store for a couple of weeks after that incident, afraid that my picture was hanging in the employee lounge under the words "Yikes! Approach with caution and kleenex!".
We are back on track and moving into exercises to strengthen my core muscles. Most of these exercises are generally hard and unpleasant. Planks are a great core strengthening exercise. You lay on your stomache on the floor and then hold up your weight with your toes and your forearms. I started at 30 seconds and am moving up from there. You feel the burn in your stomach and it hurts just to breath. I encourage you to give it a try.
My Saturday session with PT ended with core exercises on the floor. Scissoring your legs in the air while laying my back caused cramps in my thighs. PT assured me that when my core was in shape, the abdominal mucles would take over the work of my legs. Apparently yesterday was not that day! I felt pretty good when I got out of bed on Sunday morning. I didn't really notice my stomach muscles were sore until I started to sing praise choruses before worship. Using my diaphragm to sing made me thank my PT over and over during the half hour we sang and led worship.
And yet in the midst of my thanks and praise to our awesome Creator, I stopped to give a humble thank you for being able to have this experience. Having a PT who challenges me, patiently works with my wild blood sugar swings and motivates me want to work hard is a blessing. Watching myself "coming into focus" after a long time of mirror avoiding moments is a gift. Being able to share (and vent) to whoever cares to read this blog has made the process so much more fun!
Tune in next week as I relate my first 5K experience!
Monday, April 22, 2013
Week 3: One Step At A Time
I have always struggled with body image issues. That may be putting it mildly, but it's a good place to start. Even as a young girl, I never really liked the person staring back at me in the mirror. My hair is naturally curly and is impossible to tame without super powered hair products and a lot of patience. I had an overbite that was a constant reminder to me that I didn't measure up. I was not a fastionista who had a good handle on what looked good on me. Like every other girl, I wanted to look different.
I developed an eating disorder when I was in late grade school. I struggled through high school and went to two inpatient treatment programs in my late teens. Treatment was so tough in so many ways. Food was the enemy and we went into battle six times a day!
We had three meals and three snacks. Everyone sat at a table and had a half an hour to finish our food. A staff member sat at the table with you and watched you eat. If you didn't eat your food in half an hour, there was always consequences. Usually you had to drink the calories in the form of ensure, a liquid supplement that smells like powered milk mixed with paint - I know - yum!
At first, the food choices were made for us and we just ate what we were given. As we progressed, we made our menu cards from the hospital's gourmet offerings. I spent many hours poring over those menus trying to select something that the dietician checking the cards would approve.
When I was admitted to the program, I were put on a "weight line". The expectation was that I gained a half a pound a day to stay "on your line". If I did not gain, I lost privileges, like phone calls, exercise, fun stuff.. Every morning at 6:00 a.m., a staff member woke us up and herded us down the hall to the scale. Not a terrific way to start your day. The rest of the day revolved around that number. Some of the braver patients tried different ways to have the scale move up without gaining weight including taping quarters to their legs. This was hardcore treatment.
Eating disorders are much like alcoholism. Although a patient may no longer be restricting, dieting, binging and purging, they are always in recovery. It's a slippery slope that starts with one missed meal, one bad day, one forbidden food. Only by God's grace do I stand here today and every day.I was in treatment with young women who died from their disease. Many patients were "frequent fliers" who had been in and out of treatment many times. Some ran out of options before their health was restored.
The programs worked on the disease from many different angles - physical, emotional and spiritual. I hold the chaplains at the University of Minnesota in high regard. Even in the midst of that situation, God was there.
Both of my stints in inpatient treatment lasted six weeks, with years of outpatient treatment to follow. It was a years' long pause in my life that has given me an appreciation for simpling things like going out to lunch with the girls. It has given me a passion in my ministry to remind everyone that the image you struggle with in the mirror is the child that God holds in His heart.
Being in recovery comes in to play when I started at the gym. I don't own a scale at my house - a slippery slope - so I rely upon the doctor's office to give me the numbers as I gauge my progress by how my clothes fit. When the personal trainer assessor told me my body fat ratio, I was appalled! She was quick to point out that it was very normal for a woman my age, but those numbers still hold a lot of power in my life. As I progress with my personal trainer (PT), we don't talk weight much. However, I do triumph in bragging that I have gone down two sizes in the last six weeks (shamelessly bragging!). PT seems pleased with my progress as we move forward.
I give you this history so you understand how much God has been at work in my life and continues to amaze me with His blessings. My diet works for me because my dietician/diabetic educator uses an exchange system instead of calories. She is sensative to this nature of my recovery and is wonderful at making it seem completely normal. My PT focuses on fitness, stamina and endurance. I am surprised that my four mile cardio class at church shows me that I am moving in the right direction.
This week at the gym was not extraordinary. I was eager to get to the gym on Tuesday and work. A repeat visit to the dietician gave me some great resources as I continue to find a balance between carbs, protein and blood sugar. I now carry a powder carb booster if my blood sugar drops during my work out. It looks a bit like a pixi stick. It's my secret weapon against hypoglycemia and a safety net. It's a study in patience for me and PT as we find that balance while keeping me challenged.
As I lock my cell phone in the trunk and head into the building, I spend time working on me. My health and well-being are an investment in myself, my life, my family and my ministry. I have become disciplined in other areas of my life as I work on my diet and fitness. Prayer time has become more regular. I seek balance between working and playing, resting and activitiy. Even financial decisions are considered more carefully.
As I leap into this coming week, I want to stop and give God the glory for the great things He is doing in my life.
I developed an eating disorder when I was in late grade school. I struggled through high school and went to two inpatient treatment programs in my late teens. Treatment was so tough in so many ways. Food was the enemy and we went into battle six times a day!
We had three meals and three snacks. Everyone sat at a table and had a half an hour to finish our food. A staff member sat at the table with you and watched you eat. If you didn't eat your food in half an hour, there was always consequences. Usually you had to drink the calories in the form of ensure, a liquid supplement that smells like powered milk mixed with paint - I know - yum!
At first, the food choices were made for us and we just ate what we were given. As we progressed, we made our menu cards from the hospital's gourmet offerings. I spent many hours poring over those menus trying to select something that the dietician checking the cards would approve.
When I was admitted to the program, I were put on a "weight line". The expectation was that I gained a half a pound a day to stay "on your line". If I did not gain, I lost privileges, like phone calls, exercise, fun stuff.. Every morning at 6:00 a.m., a staff member woke us up and herded us down the hall to the scale. Not a terrific way to start your day. The rest of the day revolved around that number. Some of the braver patients tried different ways to have the scale move up without gaining weight including taping quarters to their legs. This was hardcore treatment.
Eating disorders are much like alcoholism. Although a patient may no longer be restricting, dieting, binging and purging, they are always in recovery. It's a slippery slope that starts with one missed meal, one bad day, one forbidden food. Only by God's grace do I stand here today and every day.I was in treatment with young women who died from their disease. Many patients were "frequent fliers" who had been in and out of treatment many times. Some ran out of options before their health was restored.
The programs worked on the disease from many different angles - physical, emotional and spiritual. I hold the chaplains at the University of Minnesota in high regard. Even in the midst of that situation, God was there.
Both of my stints in inpatient treatment lasted six weeks, with years of outpatient treatment to follow. It was a years' long pause in my life that has given me an appreciation for simpling things like going out to lunch with the girls. It has given me a passion in my ministry to remind everyone that the image you struggle with in the mirror is the child that God holds in His heart.
Being in recovery comes in to play when I started at the gym. I don't own a scale at my house - a slippery slope - so I rely upon the doctor's office to give me the numbers as I gauge my progress by how my clothes fit. When the personal trainer assessor told me my body fat ratio, I was appalled! She was quick to point out that it was very normal for a woman my age, but those numbers still hold a lot of power in my life. As I progress with my personal trainer (PT), we don't talk weight much. However, I do triumph in bragging that I have gone down two sizes in the last six weeks (shamelessly bragging!). PT seems pleased with my progress as we move forward.
I give you this history so you understand how much God has been at work in my life and continues to amaze me with His blessings. My diet works for me because my dietician/diabetic educator uses an exchange system instead of calories. She is sensative to this nature of my recovery and is wonderful at making it seem completely normal. My PT focuses on fitness, stamina and endurance. I am surprised that my four mile cardio class at church shows me that I am moving in the right direction.
This week at the gym was not extraordinary. I was eager to get to the gym on Tuesday and work. A repeat visit to the dietician gave me some great resources as I continue to find a balance between carbs, protein and blood sugar. I now carry a powder carb booster if my blood sugar drops during my work out. It looks a bit like a pixi stick. It's my secret weapon against hypoglycemia and a safety net. It's a study in patience for me and PT as we find that balance while keeping me challenged.
As I lock my cell phone in the trunk and head into the building, I spend time working on me. My health and well-being are an investment in myself, my life, my family and my ministry. I have become disciplined in other areas of my life as I work on my diet and fitness. Prayer time has become more regular. I seek balance between working and playing, resting and activitiy. Even financial decisions are considered more carefully.
As I leap into this coming week, I want to stop and give God the glory for the great things He is doing in my life.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Week Two: Crash & Burn
My diabetes diagnosis did not come out of the blue -- my fasting blood sugars had been creeping up for a couple of years. However, the day my A1C came back 7.2, I was a bit suprised. An A1C, or "lie detector test", is a lab value which IS basically A summary of what your blood sugar has been over the last three months. The normal range for A1C is 4%-6%; anything over 6.5% on two separate lab draws indicates diabetes. My first impulse was to go out for ice cream. Fortunately, logic took over and I asked for the name of a good dietician/diabetic educator. I still really did want to eat ice cream, though.
For me, the diagnosis was a wake up call. I have worked in a nursing home with elderly adults who ignored their blood sugars for too long. Missing feet, blindness, nerve pain and kidney problems were the results of many years of undermanaged diabetes. I knew that I needed to make some tough decisions and a commitment to make a lifestyle change. Yuck! It's hard to life a lifestyle you don't choose.
There is a special place in heaven for my dietician. I have met with her several times to help me get on track. Occasionally I wander in to uncharted territory and need some guidance. She is so motivating and reassuring that I walk out of the appointments believing that I can take charge of my diet.
Well, I ran back into unchartered territory in my second week of training. As I said last week, I have a great trainer who motivates me to work hard and keeps me from hurting myself, which is not an easy thing for this accident-prone exerciser! We had discussed my diabetes at my initial meeting and his basic instructions were "sit down before you fall down". When my blood sugar gets low, my first sign is often feeling a bit jittery, maybe a little clammy sweat, overall weakness and being unsteady. As my sugar gets lower, I have been known to cry suddenly or even zone out a bit.
Tuesday's training time was great. I really need to work on endurance and resistance training. I was kidding myself into thinking that I was in pretty good shape after my 18 months of church exercise class; I was seriously overestimating my fitness level! My first time on the elliptical caused my heart rate to climb and I struggled to catch my breath. How long had I been on this torture device? Fifteen minutes, two hours, three life times?!? Uh, no... about three minutes. Yikes! I left sweaty and happy that I had survived another day!
Thursday began very much like Tuesday. I always start by warming up on the bikes. I pedal away for about seven minutes until my personal trainer (PT) taps me on the shoulder, hands me a wipe to clean off the bike and leads me to my next challenge. PT led me to this cool apparatus where you can do about a zillion different resistance training by clipping the handles to different parts of this frame. PT demonstrated the motions for the arm weights I would be using and handed me the handle. Obviously not prepared for the weight setting, it pulled me back to the handle's resting position. I am sure it was hilarious to watch! I kind of hung there by my arm perched on my tiptoes. I am sure that it's on Youtube by now. After the arm workout, PT decided I should do the bike instead of the ellipcal because I was feeling a bit dizzy. I cruised for about three minutes and went off to do lunges.
By the time I got off the bike, I was feeling more than a bit dizzy, but hoped that it would pass. I made about four lunges before I sat down mid-lunge. I was shaking, cold and clammy and not completely with it. It feels kind of like other people are talking to you from a distance. PT asked important questions that I could not produce appropriate answers for. Two hours later as I finished the supper dishes I realized what he was trying to ask me. My answer wasn't even close!
I needed to bring my pulse rate back down to a normal level, so he guided me over to the bike and asked me if I wanted some sugar. "Sugar??? Never heard of it!" my fuzzy brain was saying as I tried to formulate the word "yes". He was back in a flash with a sports drink and handed me the bottle. I looked at the bottle for quite some time before I figured out that I couldn't drink the contents until the cover was unscrewed. And for the life of me, I couldn't understand how you would get the cover off. After a few half-hearted attempts, PT took the bottle, unscrewed the cover and gave the bottle back to me. After a few drinks, I could feel myself perking up. After a couple of minutes of drinking the red nectar and biking, I headed to the office so PT could make sure that I was able to leave under my own power safely.
By the time I got to the office, I was able to form words and talk in complete sentences. Assuring PT that I would come back the gym that weekend only when other people were present, I was able to go home. I felt frustrated and defeated. A call to the diabetic educator gleaned some helpful tips and an appointment to discuss the issue at greater length. I needed to go back to the drawing board and figure out my pre-workout snacks. I needed to have a Plan B for quick sugar and carry this with me all the time.
I am surprised how much I enjoy this gym time. I lock my cell phone is the trunk of my car before I go into the building. The only thing I have to think about is my next breath and my next step. Sometimes I am pretty sure that my next breath and my next step might be my last!
I have never invested much in myself, not just monetarily, but also as a whole. I see the value of being stronger and healthier so I can be a better servant for God. Scripture tells us in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, " Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies." I guess my "temple" is under renovation currently. How is your temple?https://www.facebook.com/
For me, the diagnosis was a wake up call. I have worked in a nursing home with elderly adults who ignored their blood sugars for too long. Missing feet, blindness, nerve pain and kidney problems were the results of many years of undermanaged diabetes. I knew that I needed to make some tough decisions and a commitment to make a lifestyle change. Yuck! It's hard to life a lifestyle you don't choose.
There is a special place in heaven for my dietician. I have met with her several times to help me get on track. Occasionally I wander in to uncharted territory and need some guidance. She is so motivating and reassuring that I walk out of the appointments believing that I can take charge of my diet.
Well, I ran back into unchartered territory in my second week of training. As I said last week, I have a great trainer who motivates me to work hard and keeps me from hurting myself, which is not an easy thing for this accident-prone exerciser! We had discussed my diabetes at my initial meeting and his basic instructions were "sit down before you fall down". When my blood sugar gets low, my first sign is often feeling a bit jittery, maybe a little clammy sweat, overall weakness and being unsteady. As my sugar gets lower, I have been known to cry suddenly or even zone out a bit.
Tuesday's training time was great. I really need to work on endurance and resistance training. I was kidding myself into thinking that I was in pretty good shape after my 18 months of church exercise class; I was seriously overestimating my fitness level! My first time on the elliptical caused my heart rate to climb and I struggled to catch my breath. How long had I been on this torture device? Fifteen minutes, two hours, three life times?!? Uh, no... about three minutes. Yikes! I left sweaty and happy that I had survived another day!
Thursday began very much like Tuesday. I always start by warming up on the bikes. I pedal away for about seven minutes until my personal trainer (PT) taps me on the shoulder, hands me a wipe to clean off the bike and leads me to my next challenge. PT led me to this cool apparatus where you can do about a zillion different resistance training by clipping the handles to different parts of this frame. PT demonstrated the motions for the arm weights I would be using and handed me the handle. Obviously not prepared for the weight setting, it pulled me back to the handle's resting position. I am sure it was hilarious to watch! I kind of hung there by my arm perched on my tiptoes. I am sure that it's on Youtube by now. After the arm workout, PT decided I should do the bike instead of the ellipcal because I was feeling a bit dizzy. I cruised for about three minutes and went off to do lunges.
By the time I got off the bike, I was feeling more than a bit dizzy, but hoped that it would pass. I made about four lunges before I sat down mid-lunge. I was shaking, cold and clammy and not completely with it. It feels kind of like other people are talking to you from a distance. PT asked important questions that I could not produce appropriate answers for. Two hours later as I finished the supper dishes I realized what he was trying to ask me. My answer wasn't even close!
I needed to bring my pulse rate back down to a normal level, so he guided me over to the bike and asked me if I wanted some sugar. "Sugar??? Never heard of it!" my fuzzy brain was saying as I tried to formulate the word "yes". He was back in a flash with a sports drink and handed me the bottle. I looked at the bottle for quite some time before I figured out that I couldn't drink the contents until the cover was unscrewed. And for the life of me, I couldn't understand how you would get the cover off. After a few half-hearted attempts, PT took the bottle, unscrewed the cover and gave the bottle back to me. After a few drinks, I could feel myself perking up. After a couple of minutes of drinking the red nectar and biking, I headed to the office so PT could make sure that I was able to leave under my own power safely.
By the time I got to the office, I was able to form words and talk in complete sentences. Assuring PT that I would come back the gym that weekend only when other people were present, I was able to go home. I felt frustrated and defeated. A call to the diabetic educator gleaned some helpful tips and an appointment to discuss the issue at greater length. I needed to go back to the drawing board and figure out my pre-workout snacks. I needed to have a Plan B for quick sugar and carry this with me all the time.
I am surprised how much I enjoy this gym time. I lock my cell phone is the trunk of my car before I go into the building. The only thing I have to think about is my next breath and my next step. Sometimes I am pretty sure that my next breath and my next step might be my last!
I have never invested much in myself, not just monetarily, but also as a whole. I see the value of being stronger and healthier so I can be a better servant for God. Scripture tells us in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, " Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies." I guess my "temple" is under renovation currently. How is your temple?https://www.facebook.com/
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Week 1: Terror on the Treadmill
Last week was my first full week at my new gym. It can be daunting to walk in and see these crafted bodies running on elliptical machines. But I took a deep breath, opened the door and walked in to meet my new personal trainer (P.T.).
I had met my P.T. the week before and had left the meeting somewhat overwhelmed. He was speaking a scary new language which included words such as "squats", "lunges" and "running on purpose".
I was the person running in the back of the pack during high school P.E. class. I was a cheerleader before it was considered a sport. I was on the track team for approximately 6 days before I admitted to myself that I was not an athlete. It was liberating turning in my track sweats and walking out of the funky-smelling locker room.
Now I was back in a gym by my own choice and I was having gym class flashbacks. My P.T. approached me and asked me if I was ready for this. My honest reply sounded kind of shaky coming out of my mouth, "no". I felt a little like an imposter as I walked around with my exercise clothes and water bottle.
My P.T. is knowledgeable about my rheumatoid arthritis and my diabetes. My physician had deemed a trainer medically necessary so I wouldn't hurt myself. Those who know me well know that I am accident prone and that has nothing to do with my pre-existing conditions. I regularly loan out my stash of crutches and walking boots. For a while, the Emergency Department personnel kept my chart on the counter in anticipation of my next visit!
One of my goals as I begin training is to participate and finish a 5K. I was planning to start slowly, walk the first few and then maybe - just maybe- I could work up to running maybe. P.T. told me that he would shoot for having me run by the end of April. I have publically mocked those who run on purpose. I don't think God put us at the top of the food chain to run "just because". If you are being chased by a rabid bear in the forest, that would warrant running. However, we are short on rabid wild life, so the need to run is pretty minimal. P.T., however, is certain that I would be jogging in no time at all.
The P.T. told me that the first workout would be among the worst that he would lead. He wanted to see just how far I could go. Promises of lighter work outs to follow was the only reason I didn't bolt immediately! I figured it would be a short first session. I guessed I had about 10 to 15 minutes of fitness inside of me. He looked like a trustworthy professional, so I put myself entirely into his hands and followed resolutely behind him across the gym.
I moved from squats to lunges, exercise bike to rowing machine. Some of you might be surprised to know that I am a little bit stubborn. I know - shocking!!! An hour later, I stumbled off the exercise bike after my pulse rate returned to 120 unsure if my legs would carry me all the way to the car. It felt like my knees would buckle at any moment.
I awoke the next morning and tentatively put my feet on the edge of the bed. I really didn't feel to bad. Maybe I was in better shape than I had given myself credit for! Then, I stood up and all daydreams of being fit went out the window. My legs felt full of lead and the msucles were so tight that I could hardly hobble down the stairs. I was so glad that I was adopting a healthier lifestyle (sarcasm). Going down stairs and getting up from a chair were new adventures in pain. The next morning I woke to find that I couldn't straighten my arms as the my forearms were so sore that they would cramp up if I didn't let them hang at my sides at all times.
Last week was Holy Week, which is the second busiest week of my year. Our Reflections clown team ministry leads the Good Friday service which requires me to walk, kneel AND get up again and raise my arms above my head. Perhaps it was bad timing on my part, but there was nothing to do put keep moving forward and pray that Jesus comes back soon!
On Thursday, I walked stiff-legged into the gym hoping that P.T. could "fix" my tight muscles and get me ready to clown the next day. His prediction was accurate - I had never worked that hard. I was ready for the forementioned easier workout. The workout included much of the same exercises interspersed with a few minutes on the exercise bike. At the end of the workout, he helped me stretch out my legs and arms. I left feeling a little like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz who had finally found my oil can.
I also left feeling a strange satisfaction that I had the right P.T. - someone who would push me when I wanted to quit. At no time did I have any joint pain, so I was exercising safely and that gives me confidence to work harder. Maybe it was the endorphins, but I am exciting to see what my limits are. How far can I push myself? Can I really run a 5K and not finish in the ER?
I walked into our church exercise class yesterday and put in four miles enjoying the workout. Dare I say that I am beginning to "like" exercising? Stay turned for my next post.
I had met my P.T. the week before and had left the meeting somewhat overwhelmed. He was speaking a scary new language which included words such as "squats", "lunges" and "running on purpose".
I was the person running in the back of the pack during high school P.E. class. I was a cheerleader before it was considered a sport. I was on the track team for approximately 6 days before I admitted to myself that I was not an athlete. It was liberating turning in my track sweats and walking out of the funky-smelling locker room.
Now I was back in a gym by my own choice and I was having gym class flashbacks. My P.T. approached me and asked me if I was ready for this. My honest reply sounded kind of shaky coming out of my mouth, "no". I felt a little like an imposter as I walked around with my exercise clothes and water bottle.
My P.T. is knowledgeable about my rheumatoid arthritis and my diabetes. My physician had deemed a trainer medically necessary so I wouldn't hurt myself. Those who know me well know that I am accident prone and that has nothing to do with my pre-existing conditions. I regularly loan out my stash of crutches and walking boots. For a while, the Emergency Department personnel kept my chart on the counter in anticipation of my next visit!
One of my goals as I begin training is to participate and finish a 5K. I was planning to start slowly, walk the first few and then maybe - just maybe- I could work up to running maybe. P.T. told me that he would shoot for having me run by the end of April. I have publically mocked those who run on purpose. I don't think God put us at the top of the food chain to run "just because". If you are being chased by a rabid bear in the forest, that would warrant running. However, we are short on rabid wild life, so the need to run is pretty minimal. P.T., however, is certain that I would be jogging in no time at all.
The P.T. told me that the first workout would be among the worst that he would lead. He wanted to see just how far I could go. Promises of lighter work outs to follow was the only reason I didn't bolt immediately! I figured it would be a short first session. I guessed I had about 10 to 15 minutes of fitness inside of me. He looked like a trustworthy professional, so I put myself entirely into his hands and followed resolutely behind him across the gym.
I moved from squats to lunges, exercise bike to rowing machine. Some of you might be surprised to know that I am a little bit stubborn. I know - shocking!!! An hour later, I stumbled off the exercise bike after my pulse rate returned to 120 unsure if my legs would carry me all the way to the car. It felt like my knees would buckle at any moment.
I awoke the next morning and tentatively put my feet on the edge of the bed. I really didn't feel to bad. Maybe I was in better shape than I had given myself credit for! Then, I stood up and all daydreams of being fit went out the window. My legs felt full of lead and the msucles were so tight that I could hardly hobble down the stairs. I was so glad that I was adopting a healthier lifestyle (sarcasm). Going down stairs and getting up from a chair were new adventures in pain. The next morning I woke to find that I couldn't straighten my arms as the my forearms were so sore that they would cramp up if I didn't let them hang at my sides at all times.
Last week was Holy Week, which is the second busiest week of my year. Our Reflections clown team ministry leads the Good Friday service which requires me to walk, kneel AND get up again and raise my arms above my head. Perhaps it was bad timing on my part, but there was nothing to do put keep moving forward and pray that Jesus comes back soon!
On Thursday, I walked stiff-legged into the gym hoping that P.T. could "fix" my tight muscles and get me ready to clown the next day. His prediction was accurate - I had never worked that hard. I was ready for the forementioned easier workout. The workout included much of the same exercises interspersed with a few minutes on the exercise bike. At the end of the workout, he helped me stretch out my legs and arms. I left feeling a little like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz who had finally found my oil can.
I also left feeling a strange satisfaction that I had the right P.T. - someone who would push me when I wanted to quit. At no time did I have any joint pain, so I was exercising safely and that gives me confidence to work harder. Maybe it was the endorphins, but I am exciting to see what my limits are. How far can I push myself? Can I really run a 5K and not finish in the ER?
I walked into our church exercise class yesterday and put in four miles enjoying the workout. Dare I say that I am beginning to "like" exercising? Stay turned for my next post.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Torture in Cute Outfits
Today I meet my new personal trainer. He will coach me into a lifestyle of fitness and "slim-ness". I have been exercising at our church once a week and, although I'm not really don't enjoy exercising, I have a blast with that faithful group that meets in our youth group to walk, jump, run and complain! The choice to join a fitness center was tougher than I thought. I actually did some market research, asking people where they work out and how they like that facility. I visited a couple of places and was surprised by the vast differences.
Apparently, each fitness center has a different atmosphere. Some places are filled with people training to compete. They craft their muscles intensely. These "Adonis wanna-bees" spend hours lifting free weights and discussing their achievements, which include bench pressing more than their body weight and finding the perfect body oil.
Many of the fitness centers that do "boot camps", intense, strenuous exercising similar to boot camp in the military and usually begin early in the morning. For me, the very act of getting up early in the morning is strenuous enough without adding exercise to my routine!!
When I walked into the gym where I became a member, I knew that I had found my torture chamber. The smell of clean met me at the door. There are no locker rooms; each person has their own room with a shower and a hair dryer. People my age and much older were "feeling the burn". I signed up right away, got my key and left inspired. I made an appointment to meet with a personal trainer for an initial assessment the following week.
My new gym is only about three blocks from house, so I can't use that excuse for not going to the facility regularly. Rats, now I'm going to have to come up with other excuses!
My first appointment with the personal trainer was very upbeat. I am in better shape than I feared, although there are a couple pieces of equipment that the trainer deemed too advanced for me to attempt. However, the trainer did introduce me to the tread mill, which I deemed too advanced as I held onto the bars for dear life as she increased the speed by pressing a lot of buttons. I got off feeling slightly dizzy and stumbled on to the next agenda item. I am not sure what this device is called. It looks like half a ball on a platform. I will now refer to it as the circus ball. I was told to stand on this ball to improve my balance. The mere act of standing was more like trying to line dance at zero gravity. I could even hear circus music in the background.
After a couple of minutes of trying to balance, the trainer said, "Do you know what would be fun? Lunges!"
I suppressed the urge to reply, "Do you know what would be fun? Eating ice cream!" Apparently her idea of fun and my idea of fun are two very different things.
She led me through the weight circuit, introducing me to such machines as the "abducter and adducter. I am pretty sure that this machine abducted any thigh muscles I came with. I could barely walk after a couple of reps on that baby! She emphasized the machines that were confusing, even after consulting the pictures. I am a visual learner and watched as she showed me how to set the machine and use it properly. One particular machine - I will call it "the clown car" - requires you to squish into a position by folding yourself in half. I thought getting into the weight machine WAS the exercise. I was informed that once in "the clown car", you have to do a series of arm strengthen exercised. Hmmm......
The rest of the work out included a 15 pound kettle that I lifted over my head and then put down on the floor several times and a brief stint with the medicine ball, after which I took some medicine for my aching body.
The next day, it there was strenuous exercise as I tried to get out of bed without being in a sitting position. The "thigh abduction machine" made sitting and getting up from a sitting position a new experience in pain. Made me glad that I had closen this new, healthier lifestyle.
Apparently, each fitness center has a different atmosphere. Some places are filled with people training to compete. They craft their muscles intensely. These "Adonis wanna-bees" spend hours lifting free weights and discussing their achievements, which include bench pressing more than their body weight and finding the perfect body oil.
Many of the fitness centers that do "boot camps", intense, strenuous exercising similar to boot camp in the military and usually begin early in the morning. For me, the very act of getting up early in the morning is strenuous enough without adding exercise to my routine!!
When I walked into the gym where I became a member, I knew that I had found my torture chamber. The smell of clean met me at the door. There are no locker rooms; each person has their own room with a shower and a hair dryer. People my age and much older were "feeling the burn". I signed up right away, got my key and left inspired. I made an appointment to meet with a personal trainer for an initial assessment the following week.
My new gym is only about three blocks from house, so I can't use that excuse for not going to the facility regularly. Rats, now I'm going to have to come up with other excuses!
My first appointment with the personal trainer was very upbeat. I am in better shape than I feared, although there are a couple pieces of equipment that the trainer deemed too advanced for me to attempt. However, the trainer did introduce me to the tread mill, which I deemed too advanced as I held onto the bars for dear life as she increased the speed by pressing a lot of buttons. I got off feeling slightly dizzy and stumbled on to the next agenda item. I am not sure what this device is called. It looks like half a ball on a platform. I will now refer to it as the circus ball. I was told to stand on this ball to improve my balance. The mere act of standing was more like trying to line dance at zero gravity. I could even hear circus music in the background.
After a couple of minutes of trying to balance, the trainer said, "Do you know what would be fun? Lunges!"
I suppressed the urge to reply, "Do you know what would be fun? Eating ice cream!" Apparently her idea of fun and my idea of fun are two very different things.
She led me through the weight circuit, introducing me to such machines as the "abducter and adducter. I am pretty sure that this machine abducted any thigh muscles I came with. I could barely walk after a couple of reps on that baby! She emphasized the machines that were confusing, even after consulting the pictures. I am a visual learner and watched as she showed me how to set the machine and use it properly. One particular machine - I will call it "the clown car" - requires you to squish into a position by folding yourself in half. I thought getting into the weight machine WAS the exercise. I was informed that once in "the clown car", you have to do a series of arm strengthen exercised. Hmmm......
The rest of the work out included a 15 pound kettle that I lifted over my head and then put down on the floor several times and a brief stint with the medicine ball, after which I took some medicine for my aching body.
The next day, it there was strenuous exercise as I tried to get out of bed without being in a sitting position. The "thigh abduction machine" made sitting and getting up from a sitting position a new experience in pain. Made me glad that I had closen this new, healthier lifestyle.
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