Sobering reality

Since finishing the Mission Inn 10K run a few weeks ago, I have not run much. In fact, I have not run at all. I've only managed two workouts since then, two workouts that were both mostly on the bike, and those were about two days apart from each other. So in other words, for the last 17 days, I've done nothing.

And it shows. I ran today - and I'll get to that in a minute - and as I was walking out I decided on a whim to jump on the scale.

187.3

Yikes. That is not good. Not good at all. I had been around 182 or so, give or take a pound. I had not yet cracked the 179 mark but I had barely been above 185 for a long time. And now this. Nevermind that this is my post-workout weight, which means I was or am really at about 188.5 if I know my body, which I like to think I do.

Well, this is actually a good thing. It's good because nothing whips me into shape quicker than gaining weight. I worked my ass off for 20 months to lose 125 pounds and the last thing I am ever going to do is allow myself to put any of it back on. A few pounds, whatever, they come and go, but this weight gain has been due to 1) lack of running and 2) lack of calorie control.

I don't know how else to live my life. I set a goal and try to reach it every day. If it's with my meal plan, then it's eating a snack at about 10 am or avoiding sweets. If it's with my workout regimen, then it's running a certain distance or going to the gym for the third time in five days.

Lately I've had no such goals to meet. I've not planned to run a race, well, officially anyway. Nothing is coming up that I need to train for. The soccer officiating is one thing but I don't have to bust my butt to get in shape for that. I'm already there, and I believe that is part of my problem. I've gotten into a comfort zone, and those are dangerous. Can't have them. Don't want them. Mustn't think like that.

So now what I have to do though is to keep cool. I have to keep my cool because I don't want to make any rash decisions. It's Thanksgiving tomorrow and I want to enjoy it and enjoy the food. I don't want to deny myself on the one day of the year that it's okay, necessary even, to indulge. But beyond that, I have to make a plan. Got to. No choice. Soccer or not, I have to start running again, in the gym, as if I have a race to train for. That's the only way I can function apparently.

As far as my run, it went well. I felt comfortable, so comfortable on the treadmill. The bike is nice but I'm a runner dammit, a Muddy Runner. I need to run. I have to run. It's what I've become.

I ran intervals, my usual 42-minute interval, alternated between 6.0 and 7.3. The vitals - time: 33:02, Avg HR: 169, Max HR: 191, Cal: 547. Those numbers are a bit higher than I'm used to seeing during interval runs, and I'll prove it to you next week after I've gotten back into the groove of running.

So I'm going to take these next couple of days to hammer out a plan. I will run on Friday for sure, probably another interval run on Friday. I'll try and get a good run in on Saturday, maybe four to five miles. Rest on Sunday and then... don't know yet. I'll figure out a plan soon enough.

And it will be an effective plan, I'm sure of it.