Life isn't fair, Part 23,876

I know Oprah has her thyroid issue, which makes weight loss harder.

I have a minor one, too. A couple of years ago, when I was in my Can't-Get-Under-200-Pounds Plateau, my bloodwork revealed "borderline" low thyroid. The doc said that it wouldn't be intelligent to put myself on hard-to-regulate medication for the rest of my life (particularly since I had no other symptoms of low thyroid) and that if I wanted to lose more weight, I should run.

(He still believes, by the way, that it is my running that drove my weight loss. I have not been able to persuade him otherwise, despite the evidence: I lost 75 of the 90 pounds I've lost before I started running. He's a competitive runner in his late-50s age group, so no wonder -- that's where his bias lies.)

That's one thing I wish my running, "in-shape" readers and friends would understand. Oh, I've eaten too much in the past, but I really didn't eat that much too much in the past. Obese people aren't necessarily lazy or particularly gluttonous. On some people, the weight falls off; others have to work so much harder. Weight loss isn't as simple as Eating Fewer Calories Than Your Body Needs. Or maybe it is -- there's just the reality that it can be surprising how few calories different bodies need.

The best example I see in my life is with one of my friends. She started elementalyou well over a year after I did. She had maybe 50 pounds to lose, and she never hit the 200-pound mark. She's at least two or three inches shorter than me. Now, she's on maintenance, and she has to add food so she won't continue losing. She weighs less than I do now, and she eats a lot more than I do now. She's also less active. And she looks thin. I definitely don't. It's people like her who have made me feel a lot better about my perpetual struggling.

So there's a strong element of luck of the draw in the hand we're dealt. It's only now, too, in contemporary life that my tendency to hold onto weight is a disadvantage.

It's frustrating, but it's just something I have to deal with. Right now, I'm in a long Can't-Stay-Under-160-Pounds Plateau.

I could go the Oprah route, where I just accept things as they are -- or, I could shake up my workouts again and see if that can kickstart things.

Recovery week

No, I haven't run. I have walked every day -- with Paul.

One of my brothers called and we shot the breeze for a bit. He had the typical reaction when I remembered to tell him about the race: "Would you ever have imagined three years ago that you could do that?"

The answer, of course, is no frickin' way.

Oprah Winfrey is full of it

The latest O magazine from everyone's close personal friend Oprah Winfrey has a big ol' teaser on the cover: "'The Battle is Over' -- Oprah; How She Ended Her War With Food."

It turns out, of course, that it is all about accepting her body, accepting her wonderfulness, eating what she wants, not torturing herself with dieting, working on herself and her issues, aiming to be happy whatever she weighs.

I'm sorry, but that's the kind of garbage that people who have given up say.

And, yes, I have been there, done that.

I don't have any doubt that heavy people are often battling demons. We're often self-medicating with food. Our form of self-medication is just more obviously self-destructive than other people's. I mean, I've known people who drink way too much who look perfectly fine (for now). People who are unhealthily compulsive about other things can look hyper-neat and appear to have it together on the outside -- but I'm happy I don't have to fight their internal demons either.

My point, though, is this. I really think it's easier to control your food than to fix whatever your demons are.

Oprah is pushing a Geneen Roth book called "Women, Food and God." And, oh, it does look interesting. There's an excerpt in the magazine as well.

At the same time, it's fundamentally flawed. You undoubtedly can be heavy and happy. I know I was. I also had some insecurities, some issues, that I don't have now. Not that all my insecurities are gone -- it's just that they indeed Are Related to Physical Size. Some of the Why I became fat was related to self-medication, at some disappointment even in my wonderful life, which I wouldn't trade for anything but that is nonetheless Not Perfect. (And whose is?)

It's easier for me to go Buddhist when I'm thinner, to accept What Is without attachment. Roth and Oprah would imply that I'd need to go Buddhist before I could get thinner. I think they've got the answer to the chicken-and-the-egg question wrong.

I didn't, for example, admit to being a Food Addict before I went on my big diet. I just went on the kind of diet that food addicts go on. (And I'm still not big into the whole labeling myself in that way.) Why would I need to do some sort of spiritual work first? Getting control of your eating forces you into some of the spiritual work. You cannot avoid it.

I do feel better -- physically, spiritually and mentally -- when I'm thinner. No, it hasn't solved all my problems (and it has created some new ones), but my problems seem easier to solve.

Paul used to say to me: "When you want to lose weight, you will. I've never seen you not accomplish anything you wanted to. You must not really want to be thin." And, oh, isn't that irritating? But he was right.

Side effects of the marathon and the training

I've got

1) a couple of black toenails and a few other messed-up ones. They're not going to fall off; they're just weird now.

2) two little chafing marks right over my breastbone. I know I'm incredibly lucky on that front.

3) a surprisingly reduced appetite. I had to force myself to finish all my food yesterday.

4) some excellent sleep over the last few days.

My new goals

After "running" the marathon (and even before), I've been thinking about how I'm going to refocus my goals.

First off, I essentially went on maintenance while training for the marathon. I was eating portion sizes that allowed me to lose weight when I was over 200 pounds, but that kept me the same now that I'm well under.

So I need to get serious about the last 10-20 pounds now, which means smaller portions again.

Second, while I still really like running slowly for long distances, I want to see how much I can improve my performance -- and that requires a different kind of training, a different kind of focus. Before, I was just focusing on being able to finish the marathon.

My new goal: Run a 5K in under 30 minutes. So I'll be doing more speed work and intervals.

Also, I really need to work on my core. Losing 20 pounds should make it easier to see exactly how messed up my abdominal muscles are. They're split, and I have a hernia, but it's not a hernia that bothers me except by making certain exercises pretty much impossible.

L.A. marathon race report

OK, I knew I was coming in to this less-than-adequately trained.

A three-month "taper" isn't exactly recommended. I had done 18- and 20-mile runs in November and December. My longest run since was about 15, and I hadn't been consistent. My weekly mileage the last few months was -- maybe -- 10-15 miles.

Then, there was the cold.

I had gotten this weird asthma-esque cold a couple of weeks ago, and it has been hanging on.

By about the middle of last week, I was effectively psyching myself out. And, yes, there was a certain amount of rationality to my hesitation. I was sick. I wasn't well-prepared. I'm not an athlete in the slightest (think one of the last ones picked for teams) -- and it wasn't really all that long ago that I weighed 250 pounds. I even had the added drama of a bit of a pregnancy scare, although, rationally, I was aware that it was more likely nerves (and it was).

I thought about not doing the race. In fact, I gave myself permission not to do it.

As soon as I told myself I certainly didn't Have To do it, I stopped worrying. I just got in autopilot mode and the next thing I knew I was doing it.

The short report: My "chip time" was 6:16 -- which is slower than I wanted (I wanted to go under 6), but probably reasonable considering the effort (or lack thereof) I had put in to training in the last few months. Finishing is, of course, the main thing for a first-timer like myself.

I walked more at the end. Finishing under 6 was in my sights until the very end when I had to stop at a restroom. At that point, when I knew the time I wanted wasn't going to happen, I probably slowed down even more.

The hardest part for me: The 12-18-mile portion. For a while there, I was worried I was going to hit the 7-hour mark. I'm not sure why that part of the course was so hard for me yet. I'm still processing the whole race.

I do know that the hilliness of the race was a challenge for me. I've done too much training in flat areas.

But here are the bullet points:

1) The shuttle from Santa Monica to the stadium was great. They didn't check for a reservation or even care what bus you went on. People could've made a reservation for a 3 a.m. shuttle and got on a 5:30 one. Realistically, a runner didn't even need a reservations -- they were just checking for race bibs.

2) A lot of the logistics of this start of this race were screwy and irritating. There were a whole bunch of Port-a-potties at Dodger Stadium. Except you had to cross the race course to get to them (and the people racing wheelchairs were supposed to start at 7). Traffic coming in to the stadium had to cross the race course as well. They held up the race because of traffic, because of people trying to get in to the stadium. I was really getting irritated, particularly with my concerns about the heat. Fortunately, it didn't get as hot as predicted, but we certainly didn't know that at 7:30 a.m.

3) Gear pick up was on the beach in Santa Monica -- which forced everyone to go to the "after-party," which was basically another hand-out-free-samples corporate even. Oh, and there was food -- none of which I could eat. Most of the vendors were packing up by the time I got there anyway. But, we all had to walk down to the beach and back up. I wasn't thrilled about that.

4) Traffic was so bad that I ended up walking another two miles after the race so Paul wouldn't be sitting in traffic for hours to pick me up. He was willing to -- I just didn't think it made logical sense for him to spend an hour to go those two miles. I didn't want to be sitting around waiting for him; I still wanted to move. It turns out that was a good call, as after sitting in the car I had trouble moving.

5) When Paul picked me up, he made some comment on how I looked like a bag lady (thanks!). I thought it was a reference to my wilder-than-usual hair and that he'd balk at taking me out to eat in that state. But no, it was in regards to the shuffling walk I had unintentionally adopted after the race.

6) I felt pretty good after the race. I was tired and (really!) hungry, of course, and I made the family fend for themselves when it came to food, but I was able to drive myself to Mass afterwards. And I went to bed somewhat early, but not all that early considering I'd gotten up at 3:30 that morning.

In short, it was miserable and wonderful and fun and interesting on many levels. I'd do it again. But I think before I attempt another one, I'd like to be a stronger runner overall. The hills hit me too hard.