Wanted: Training partner

I might break down and find someone else who is slow to train with me. One thing I like about running is that it's alone time, but I could see it being helpful for longer distances to have someone to chat with.

So, I'll look into some of the training programs. My preference, though, is for a single partner.

Here are the requirements:

1) Must run about a 12-minute mile when running comfortably, at conversation pace. A little faster or slower is OK. If this whole training thing continues to work (and why shouldn't it?), we'll be faster fairly quickly.

2) Must be female. Requirement No. 1 basically takes care of that one. Oh, I could run with a (very slow) man, and I'd probably like it. I like male energy, and I've always had a lot of strong, platonic relationships with men, undoubtedly from having so many brothers and from working around sports.

Running regularly with other men would not go over well with Paul, though, and it's important to me that he's comfortable on this one.

3) Must live relatively close by. For obvious reasons.

An update: I talked to a nice, slow female friend, who is about my age. We are in negotiations.  We'll run tonight, just to see how it goes.

Found! I found my prescription sunglasses yesterday in a bag I use only rarely. They had been missing for nearly a year. I also dug out my iPod, which I loaded up with various garbage, including Teddy Geiger (who sings sweet, romantic stuff, but has an interesting gravelly voice) and Steve Earle's "Reconsider Me," which is currently No. 1 on my "most played," to my family's utter chagrin.

The hard part

There are negatives to the weight loss. Issues I hadn't worried about for years are now things I have to be conscious about.

I feel I have to be more careful. Some (probably a lot) of this issue is the fact that I'm in L.A., the city where so many people are perpetually striving and chasing. And where there are so many single/divorced people. Certain places feel like huge singles bars. I didn't like that when I was single. I really hate it as a married woman.

So I like going outside of my little part of L.A. The vibe is so much different. I don't feel the middle-aged eyes upon me. Sometimes, I think I'm just imagining it -- then I go to the suburbs for a while, where I don't get the amount of eyeballing, and I realize that it is, indeed, the Westside.

It has to be really bad for younger women. I worry for my girls, if we stick around this little corner of the world. I hear the stories from my friends with other 11-year-olds, other 11-year-olds with figures. They're already getting street harassment.

I find, though, that I go in streaks with my attitude about the whole thing. In some ways, it's cool to turn heads once in a while, and I don't take it all that seriously. It is gradually becoming the new normal. Other times, I'm bothered by it. I do like looking better, and it's nicer for my husband. When we got together, I was wearing skirts and heels and makeup and contact lenses every day. One by one, those things went out the window in my making-babies and-getting-fat days.

And I do know how to dress in a way that is less noticeable. Flat shoes. Hair pulled back. But, do I do it? Not all that often.  At the same time, I don't dress anywhere near as provocatively as I could. I aim for a certain amount of modesty. I, however, could dress even more conservatively and avoid the whole issue. So I'm clearly ambivalent.

A boot camp, believe it or not

For all my mocking of boot camps, I did one yesterday. A free class, so what the heck.

There was no yelling, though. Or funny hats. 

The workout was OK; there was a fairly wide range of ages and levels of athleticism, so I recognize it was a challenge for him to put together. I'm not sore at all.

The instructor was definitely pushing my buttons, though. Oh, he was nice enough -- but a little patronizing.

And patronizing is something I just don't react well to, whether from men or other women -- although men, frankly, are the biggest offenders.


At the same time, I know I should just get over it. My expectations can be too high.

My quest for a waist

At this point in this whole weight-loss journey, my motivation is waning. I was highly motivated to lose weight when I was 248, 235, 210, 202, 193 or even 173 pounds. Now, I'm finding it harder. 

I could still push the BMI angle, as it's probably healthier to be in the mid- or low-range on the BMI chart. It's hard to feel motivated on the energy level, as I probably don't need to be any more energetic or feel any better than I already do. The whole vanity angle is also much less of an issue, although I do still have the belly that irritates me. I don't hate it -- I have a belly from a combination of my genetics and from having been pregnant, and those are both things I am happy about -- but I can find the belly annoying.

It's interesting to me how people store their fat differently.

I used to think I didn't have much in the department of abdominal muscles. It turns out I do. They're just covered by most of my remaining excess avoirdupois.

So, crunches aren't going to help that much more. I need to burn it off with more cardio, weights and keeping my nutritional sparklingly perfect.

The big risk I face is that I might keep my belly while continuing to lose primarily from my butt. I'm just going to have to see.

But, on that note (and I am aware that what I am doing is what journalists call "burying the lede"), I signed up to run next year's L.A. marathon today. 

The fun of intervals

OK, I'm going back to what I did when I first started this running business.

In the old days, way back in November '08, I could not maintain a jog for more than a couple of minutes. So I'd jog, then walk, jog, then walk -- until suddenly I was jogging more than walking and eventually could basically jog (slowly) as long as I wanted to.

I'm OK with being slow. I know I'm a heck of a lot faster than I was when I first started.

At the same time, I figure I might as well attempt to get a little bit faster.

So today, I used the treadmill (better with the temperature and air quality anyway) and jogged for a while at my comfortable pace, then kicked it up to an uncomfortable pace for two minutes before slowing back to comfortable again. Then repeated this a few times. My goal, of course, is to increase the length of time I can jog uncomfortably, until it gets to the point where it is comfortable. Got 30 minutes in -- and about 2.7 miles.

My knees were fine; of course, the aches don't normally kick in until about 40 minutes into a run.

Looking for a half: I still won't say I'm a huge fan of races. They still sort of embarrass me. I feel very out of my element.

At the same time, they do give me something to work toward. So I'm looking for a half marathon. There's one in L.A. on December 6, which has the advantage of being nearby. The disadvantages include the fact that it's a Sunday race (which messes up church school stuff) and it's hilly. There's another one in early January that has a flatter course and meets when Sunday School is on winter break. That one is about a hour's drive south of me. We'll see.

Playing on the beach

I ran around on the beach today with my kids and a bunch of homeschoolers. This is part of the informal little class we do with a homeschooling dad, Efrain Sevilla.

A random observation: You know the whole pole dancing trend has gone a little too mainstream when I'm getting invitations to pole-dancing parties.

Other kinds of invisibility: Talked to a lovely homeschooling mom who is about my age but who has striking gray hair. She related the differences in the way she has been treated since she decided to stop coloring her hair. It was so much like the changes I've experienced -- only in reverse.