The Color Run Is FUN!

This morning, my friends Tiffanie, Megan, and I went to National Harbor in Washington, D.C., for The Color Run 5K. Oh my goodness...if you've been thinking about doing The Color Run... do it! The Color Run says it's the "Happiest 5K," and it really is. All the volunteers were happy, positive, and fun. Everyone there to race was in a great mood and ready to have a fun time. The Color Run is definitely a race for all ages - kids to young at heart - and we saw all ages represented.

We knew it was about to be a ridiculously awesome experience when a unicorn emerged from the crowd. I could have died with excitement. I heart unicorns.

Be prepared for a ridiculous mass of people. The earlier you get there, the better. We managed to get in the second wave and they started things a little early since there were so many people. There was an emcee at the front of the line, music was pumping, volunteers were randomly raining The Color Run bracelets and magnets into the crowd, so it really made the wait at the start line seem minimal.

Along the race route are "color zones." When you run through a color zone, volunteers squirt you with colored food-grade cornstarch. I wore a pair of sunglasses to protect my eyes from the powder and found myself pulling my shirt up over my nose because it made it easier to breathe through some of the zones. Staying in the middle of the color zone meant that we didn't get as much color on us as we wanted, so we made sure to get close to the edge where volunteers were "colorizing" participants.

This isn't a timed race - it's all about fun! Lots of people were taking pictures of themselves after each color zone, rolling around in the color at each zone - think FUN. Make sure to put your phone in a plastic baggy to protect it. Also, if you love your phone's case, consider swapping it out for a cheap one or going without the case. The color will seep into the case. I went cover free on my phone and it got a bit dusty, but it's completely fine. I also brought a plastic baggy for it just in case and didn't use it at all. 

Isn't this sweet?? These two ladies (mom and daughter, maybe?) made these signs to encourage the runners/walker.

Lots of people piled near the finish line to high five and cheer everyone on in the final stretch.

We were handed bottles of water, free Slurpees, and bars from KIND. But The Color Run kept the party going by having a "color toss" party. Everyone was given a packet of color in their race packet (included in the race packet was also a shirt, bib number and safety pins, The Color Run tattoo, and entry wristband), and we tossed our color in the air at the same time...and got covered in even more color. SOOOO MUCH FUN!!!

 

My friends and I had a GREAT experience at the The Color Run and would totally do it again! Big kudos to the workers and volunteer crews who made it such a fun experience. It really is the "happiest 5K!"

Trying to figure out how in the world to wash all the color off after The Color Run and not be stained for days? Click here and I'll tell you what I used and how I got 100% clean in less than an hour in the shower using one bath item to make it happen.

The Beginning of the New Me - Part 1

2010 was the year I decided I was done.

I was tired of being who I was.

I've always battled with my weight. Between the ages of 15 and 16, I lost 70lbs so that I could be skinny in my graduation picture and on graduation day. I still remember getting on the scale on my graduation day and feeling like it didn't matter what happened that day because the number on the scale was the lowest number I had ever seen. I maintained the number for a couple of years, but then things went downhill. I started gaining weight for no reason. It didn't matter how little I ate, the number on the scale climbed. I panicked. I became depressed. And then the depression got dark. I was tired all the time - REALLY tired - and I could barely stay awake. I was freezing all the time. I'd sit outside on a warm, sunny day curled up in a blanket. I felt like I had a black cloud hanging over my head all the time, and I would randomly start crying. Literally, at the dinner table, enjoying conversation, and then I'd burst into tears. I had panic attacks. I was scared to go anywhere because I wasn't sure if I'd freak out or start randomly crying. I was convinced that I was crazy. I visited a doctor who said there was nothing wrong with me. I visited another doctor who said the same thing. They sent me to a psychiatrist who told me I was suffering a bad break up from a secret boyfriend that I was lying to my mother about. That went over well with us. My depression continued to worsen, and I was at a place where I was scared that I couldn't control it any longer. I wanted to kill myself. My doctor put me on an anti-depressant, which helped. But it didn't explain WHAT was going on. My doctor did one more blood test and the results came back that I had sub-clinical hypothyroidism. I had my answer. Within three weeks of being on Synthroid, I felt amazing. No more depression, no more crazy crying, no more freezing to death. I knew what was wrong with me. I hadn't felt so free in so long. I had started to put the pieces of me back together. I had weathered the storm and made it out alive.

Then a situation happened that profoundly changed me. A man that I knew began putting his hands on me. I did absolutely nothing to encourage it. He'd walk up behind me and massage my neck and shoulders. He'd rub my arms, try to hold my hands, try to kiss my hand. No matter how many times I told him to stop touching me, he didn't get the message. Thankfully, he was removed from my life by men who cared about me. But the damage was done. I felt like he had stolen intimate touches from me. Touches that I had been saving to give to my future husband. I had never been on a date, never held hands with a guy, and this guy blew in to my world and took from me things I was saving. I was so angry that I didn't have the choice to give them to someone I loved because he robbed them from me. I felt such incredible anger at him and especially at God for allowing it to happen. I know now that God used me to be part of this man's downfall so he could hit rock bottom and change his life. I'm genuinely happy for this guy that his life is back on track.

I allowed anger and hurt to rule me for a long time. Subconsciously, I think I decided that if I felt ugly about myself then no man would do that to me again. And the best way for me to feel ugly was to be fat. I also needed a reason why God hadn't given me the one thing I had wanted most: marriage and a family. If I was fat and ugly, then at least I had a reason. Who's attracted to a fat, ugly person? I was in a vicious cycle of food, anger, unforgiveness, and incredible hurt.

By 2010, I realized the damage I was doing to myself. I was about to turn 29, and I just didn't want to live that way anymore. I was tired of drinking the poison of anger, shame, and unforgiveness. I was only hurting myself. I started by forgiving this guy and by asking God for His forgiveness. I know that He doesn't want to hurt me. No where in the Bible does He do anything to intentionally or maliciously harm those who love Him. He wasn't about to start with me. He promises to be with us in the fire, and I blamed Him for something that wasn't His fault. Once I finally came to peace with this, I could move on.

The damage was done. I had gained a significant amount of weight, and I had to face the fact that the number on the scale was not lying. This weight was not who I was. I felt hidden under layers of fat and powerless to change, but I knew that I needed to change, and I had to find a way. I also knew that I had done it before and I could do it again. I decided to do something that scared me: commit to doing a 5K and lay out the cash to prove that I was serious about it. I signed up for the Baltimore Women's Classic 5K, and my goal was to make it across the finish line without passing out and needing them to send a medic to get me halfway through. I joined a training team (hosted by Charm City Run) for beginner/intermediate walkers and had the most fun I'd had in a long time.





This was me on June 27, 2010. I'm smiling, genuinely smiling. And I'm happy, even though I'm hot as blazes and the 101 degree heat was starting to get to me. I'm praying that I can do this. I'm wondering if I will make it. I tried to look cute and athletic, but I wore the wrong pair of shorts - a pair I'd never worn before -  and my thighs rubbed together horribly. This is one time when one shouldn't abide by "fashion over function." I endured 3.1 miles of my thighs rubbing together. Chafed thighs are not one of my most favorite memories. If you decide to do a 5K for the first time, test your shorts out first.

But you know what?

I had to slow my roll, but I finished. Me, who doesn't enjoy sweating, was off the couch and walking 3.1 miles in 101 degree heat.

I crossed the finish line, and the feeling of finishing what I had started was one of the best things I had ever felt. I completed my first 5K in 49:16 (15:52 pace). I wasn't thrilled with my time, but I told myself it was a starting point.

I was proud of me for finishing, and I hadn't been proud of myself in a long time.

Read Part 2 of the story here.

That Girl

I've always dreamed of being That Girl. She's the one I would pass in my car as I was driving into work. It didn't matter the weather, That Girl was outside running. I admired her focus, determination, and dedication. I'd drive by her, wishing that I could be dedicated enough, fit enough... I wanted to be like That Girl.

This morning I stepped into my running shoes, strapped on my Garmin Forerunner, and hit the pavement to train for the 5K I'm doing on February 5th. Did I mention it was 32 degrees and WINDY this morning?

So cold.

So windy.

My nose was dripping like a faucet.

But I did it.

And I actually ran more than I walked.

Then it occurred to me: I was That Girl this morning. I was the girl I dreamed of being. I was out in the freezing cold, running as much as my lungs and legs would let me. And it felt awesome.

I'm so glad the old me started pursuing her dream of being That Girl. I'm glad she didn't give up when she could barely do 10 minutes at 3.0 on the treadmill. I'm glad Old Me believed in something that seemed impossible. I know she would be proud that her hard work and determination not to give up in those early days would yield a sweet reward. There are still more rewards to come, but it does feel good to savor moments like this.

And now... That Girl needs a shower. Dedication has a smelly price.

Giving Myself Some Beastly Points {Achieving Goals}

So there was this guy running barefoot at the truck. Yeah...barefoot! That was a first for me. He kind of ran on his tippy toes like a 4 year old running through a sprinkler. It took everything within me not to pass him and holler, "Keep going Twinkle Toes!" It was weird, but kind of daring and slightly beastly. It takes a beastly person to run on the Catonsville track and not worry about running over a piece of glass. I admired his lack of fear.

Then there was the tatted dude who was running around the track, sans shirt, so we all could see the time he's spent doing P90X AND his apparent tolerance of the tattoo needle. He looked beastly. But Mr. Beastly Tatted Dude lost beastly points when he stopped to puke.

I was trying really hard not to sympathy puke.

You know what I mean...someone pukes and you feel like you need to puke too.

Anyway, when he hopped back on the track to run another 1/4 mile, he totally regained the beastly points he lost and gained a few extra. Mr. Beastly Tatted Dude was beastly in a mind over matter kind of way because he kept going. I admired his determination.

And then I saw a woman that I know. Compared to the other woman running at the track, she wasn't the fastest and she didn't look as good as the other woman one lane over. But I had to give it to her: she jogged/walked two miles around the track and then ran up and down the full length of the bleachers three times over. I congratulated her on a job well done, but she didn't want to hear it.

It Smells Different In The Morning

I hate exercising in the morning.

No other way around it.

I hate it.

But exercising in the evening?

No problem-o.

I feel confident. I feel swift. I feel like a gazelle that could leap over a heard of elephants while simultaneously knitting a scarf with her hooves.

Exercising in the morning is a whole different ball game. I start to feel sick halfway through it and end up crawling home. I feel more like a turtle that's gone on a leaf binge and is dragging her shell behind. I've come to the conclusion that I'm more of a "finish the day strong" kind of girl.

But, I noticed today I wasn't dragging my shell as far behind me as I was yesterday. I consider the desire to not puke my guts out as much as the day before progress.

I know, I know...so why bother?

Because I'm doing the Baltimore Women's Classic 5K on June 26th, and I'd prefer to not cross the finish line feeling like I'm going to puke or pass out. Which is how I felt last year. I'm positive the fact that it was close to 100 degrees by 8AM had something to do with it. Either way, I'm doing what I can to get myself prepared. And so I laced up sneakers, slapped my hair into an awful pony tail, and prayed I wouldn't run into anyone I know as I was trying not to die on my morning walk/run.

A thought occurred to me in between reminding myself to breathe: it smells different in the morning than in the evening. Seriously. Maybe it's because my nose isn't awake yet - it hasn't been assaulted with a bajillion scents, so it's aware of individual scents/fragrances.

I could smell someone making pancakes.

I could really smell the honeysuckle.

I even smelled roses before noticing the giant rose bush at a neighboring neighbor's house.

I also kept smelling something powdery fresh. And then I realized it was my deodorant kicking in. Three cheers for Degree.

If exercising to the scent of pancakes, honeysuckle, and roses is what it takes to trick my brain into thinking morning exercise is fun, then that's what it takes.

Seriously, if you are a morning exerciser, I tip my hat to you. You have my adoration. And if you would like to pass any little tips along - like how early you start, if you eat beforehand, what you eat, how much water you drink, how long you're awake before exercising - feel free to share your routine/expertise with me.

And now I need to get a shower.

If They Brought Back "California Dreams"...

1. I hate exercising in the morning.

Hate.

BUT, the Baltimore Women's Classic 5K is at the end of June. I want to be alert, mobile, and able to compete with myself.

Rawr.



2. There aren't any cartoons on in the morning, so why not get out there first thing?

If they brought back California Dreams I might reconsider.

Or Gummy Bears.

Or She-Ra.



3. A 100 calorie sandwich thin topped with a tablespoon of natural peanut butter, drizzled with honey, and some fresh strawberries...it's what's for breakfast.

Holla.