We all know the benefits of exercise. People who work out regularly have stronger hearts and bones, less stress, more energy and sleep better, among other benefits. Once people start working out, it can become a great habit. But even the most dedicated exerciser can have lulls where they don't want to work out. When that happens (and it WILL happen), how do you re-find your mojo?
I experience this myself from time to time. As a runner and triathlete, currently training for a few half marathons and my first half-Ironman distance triathlon (70.3 miles), I aim to workout 6-7 days a week. Every day is either a swim, bike or run day. I also try to incorporate weights into my routine for extra strengthening, although those workouts are the first to go when I need to balance working out with the rest of my life. I recently got into yoga as well, and try to attend one class per week (wish I could do more, but time is an issue). Most days I get up early in the morning to work out; as a mom of two young kids, my life is very hectic. I rarely have time to exercise during the day, and I definitely don't want to exercise at night after the kids are in bed. I'm too tired by then! I find if I get up early and hit the road or the pool I'm most likely to get it done.
But sometimes I just don't feel like working out. I'm not talking about days where I am physically sick, or have a migraine, or am injured....I'm talking about days where my mind just isn't into it. Maybe it's due to stress, or burnout, or boredom. Regardless, there are days where I just don't want to get my sweat on.
So what's a dedicated athlete to do when they've lost their mojo? Here are some tips that have worked for me in the past:
1) Set a new goal. Make a goal to lose a certain amount of weight. Make a goal to do 10 pull-ups in a row, or to be able to run 5 miles nonstop. My favorite motivator is to sign up for a new race.When I have a half marathon or a triathlon looming in the future, I know that in order to finish it strongly I need to train hard for it.
2) Blab your goal to the world. When I sign up for a new race, I tend to post it on Facebook. Announcing to the world that I am training to run 13.1 miles or run, bike and swim 70.3 miles motivates me to get it done.
3) Change up your routine. If you are a runner, try biking or swimming on off-days (that's how I got into triathlon, by the way!) Take a pilates or Zumba class. Do yoga. Get on the elliptical or rowing machine. Play tennis with a friend. As long as you're breaking a sweat and raising your heart rate, it's all good.
4) Add variety into your old workouts. I can get bored pretty easily swimming 50 laps in a row. I have found that using paddles or doing various drills for some sets breaks up the monotony. While running I may do some speed work, or hill repeats. Just this morning, I explored a new route on my bike because my old route was getting mind-numbingly boring. Keeping it fresh is key to avoiding burnout.
5) Get new music. I am a huge music fan, and love to listen to it while I'm running. About once a month I go on a little shopping spree on iTunes and by myself some new music. I then make a "new music" playlist and only listen to it on my runs. Knowing I get to listen to some great new music is very motivating to me. And you don't have to spend money to change things up. Flip through your old cds, borrow some tunes from a friend, or check some cds out of your local library to burn onto your mp3 player.
6) Buy new gear. Few things excite me in life other than having new gear to play with. New running shirts, a new water bottle, new compression socks, new goggles, a new flavor of Gu to try...it doesn't matter what it is, if it's new I can't wait to try it.
7) Workout with a friend. Even if you've lost your mojo, having a friend waiting on you to run or bike can be powerfully motivating. Ask a friend to go running with you or meet you at the gym. You won't want to leave your friend hanging, and you'll be forced to meet him/her. You may even want to join a local running group. And nothing makes the time pass quicker than chatting with a friend.
8) Fake it till you make it. Even if you don't WANT to go for a run, just put your shoes on and, in the immortal words of Nike, "Just Do It". Sometimes I tell myself I only have to run (or bike or swim) half as far as I actually had planned, just to get myself out the door. Almost 100% of the time, I end up completing my originally planned mileage.
9) Get encouragement from other athletes. Because few of my real-life friends are as crazy about running/biking/swimming as I am, I have found an amazing community of athletes on social media sites such as Twitter and dailymile. My friends in real life don't want to hear about how great (or sucky) my 8 mile run was...but my friends on Twitter and dailymile do! And when I'm in a mojo-slump, they are the first to encourage me, motivate me and sympathize with me. It's great to have a support group, whether in real life or online, to help each other. Sometimes I've been known to scroll through the dailymile feed, looking at my friends' workouts, until one in particular will catch my eye and motivate me (for example, hearing how one friend plowed through her long run even though she wasn't feeling up to it, etc). It's like athlete porn for me.
10) Do it now for the feeling later. Sometimes when I have no mojo, I think about how good I'll feel when I get home. To me, nothing feels better than coming back in the house all sweaty, flushed, and exhausted from pushing myself. It's an indescribable feeling that you have to experience to understand. In order to get that feeling, you need to get out the door in the first place.
11) Take a break. Sometimes, you really DO need a break. Taking a few days off isn't going to hurt your fitness level, and just might be what the doctor ordered to re-energize your mind. But be careful not to take TOO much time off...more than a few days can lead to inertia and laziness, and THAT will decrease your fitness level.
I hope these tips help you reclaim your mojo, as they help me. Remember, losing it happens to everyone. It's making the effort to find it again that will define you as an athlete.
June 28, 2012
June 17, 2012
For My Daddy
They say a girl either marries someone just like her father, or the complete opposite (I think the same is true for boys and their mothers). I believe this, because I married someone very much like my father. My husband, J, has all the characteristics of my father that I love. J is my rock.....and so is my Daddy.
If I had to pick an adjective to to describe Daddy, it would be unflappable. Not in the sense that he never gets excited or ruffled (trust me, the man gets high emotions: just being in a room with him watching a football game is a roller coaster ride), but in the sense that nothing I could ever do would ever cause him to lose faith in me.
Over the years, I've given him lots of scenarios where he could have reacted negatively, but he didn't. I remember one time in high school when I came home drunk. It was one of my first times drinking; I was pretty much a goody-goody in high school and didn't even take my first sip of alcohol until my senior year. Anyhow, I came home, stumbled in, said (or slurred) hello, walked into my bathroom, and proceeded to vomit. Most dads would have had a fit; Daddy helped me clean myself up and got me into bed. I don't remember a reprimand. I never asked him, but knowing him the way I do, I'm sure he figured that the vomiting and subsequent hangover would be punishment enough.
For a few years in my early twenties, I was part of a women's group that met once a month on the full-moon. They practiced a kind of spirituality; they called it witchcraft, even though they weren't Wiccan (which is an organized religion). When I told Daddy about it, he went out and bought a book about witchcraft so he could understand what I was interested in. Who does that? My Daddy, that's who! He was interested in what I was interested in. Another time, I went through my experimental phase in my twenties and desperately wanted to be a lesbian (I was doing an internship, doing psychotherapy, at the local Gay and Lesbian Community Center and loved the community so much that I wanted to be a part of it. Alas, it turned out I was heterosexual after all). Anyway, once I told my dad about one particular woman I had kissed. The only question he asked was, "is she nice?" He didn't care if I was gay or straight, only that I was with a good person!
My dad has always been supportive of whatever I want to do. He is especially supportive of my running and triathlon habit. He's thrilled I am working out consistently (especially given our family history of heart disease). A few months ago he gave me a gift card to iTunes, the perfect treat for a runner. He knew the way to his daughter's heart! He was so proud of me when I finally broke 2:30 in the half marathon a few weeks ago. Although he lives halfway across the country and is therefore not at my races, I know that if he lived locally he'd be at every finish line cheering me on. He's that kind of dad.
Daddy loves teaching---he's taught me many, many things over the years---all about football and baseball, how to shoot craps, how to play the guitar, just to name but a small few. He always knows what I'm capable of, even when I don't know it myself. One poignant moment for me was once when we went skiing. It was one of my first times, and at the end of the day he took me on an intermediate hills (I'd been skiing beginner hills all day). I was scared to death, but he told me, "I wouldn't let you do anything I knew you couldn't." And you know what? I got down that hill, and subsequently skied many intermediate hills. He taught me how to get down any hill safely--even if I accidentally found myself on an expert hill--by simply snow plowing and/or slowly zigzagging down the mountain. In that, he taught me a metaphor for life. I can get through anything if I try hard and break things into little chunks.
Daddy always told me that when I met the person I wanted to marry, he'd give me his opinion once and that would be it. I knew right away when he met J that it was a match made in heaven. My husband and my father get along so well.....he approved of J as soon as they met. He was thrilled when we got engaged. At our wedding, my plan was to surprise J during the reception by going up with the band and singing "Stand By Me" to him. Before the ceremony, I was a nervous wreck---I was excited about getting married, but was very emotional and overwhelmed. Before we walked down, he suggested that I sing "Stand By Me" with him, out in the vestibule. And I did. Singing with him, and a few other family members, calmed my nerves enough for me to walk down the aisle. He knew exactly what I needed. (By the way, later during the reception, my rendition of the song to my husband was a huge success!)
Because of the kind of man my father is, I sought out a similar man in my husband. J, like my dad, is also a rock. He unconditionally supports me, especially when I'm overwhelmed with my half marathon and triathlon training, when I overcommit in my volunteer work at the kid's schools, when I'm crying because the house is a disaster, the kids are driving me crazy, and the dog is acting hyper. Like Daddy, J can talk me down from the ledge and emotionally support me until I find my way again. Had I had not a father like the one I have, I'm not sure I would have searched such a man out. Daddy gave me the blueprint for the perfect man for me.
On today, Father's Day, I want to wish my Daddy a very happy Father's Day. Although I have tried, words truly cannot express the love I have for him.
I love you, Daddy.
If I had to pick an adjective to to describe Daddy, it would be unflappable. Not in the sense that he never gets excited or ruffled (trust me, the man gets high emotions: just being in a room with him watching a football game is a roller coaster ride), but in the sense that nothing I could ever do would ever cause him to lose faith in me.
Over the years, I've given him lots of scenarios where he could have reacted negatively, but he didn't. I remember one time in high school when I came home drunk. It was one of my first times drinking; I was pretty much a goody-goody in high school and didn't even take my first sip of alcohol until my senior year. Anyhow, I came home, stumbled in, said (or slurred) hello, walked into my bathroom, and proceeded to vomit. Most dads would have had a fit; Daddy helped me clean myself up and got me into bed. I don't remember a reprimand. I never asked him, but knowing him the way I do, I'm sure he figured that the vomiting and subsequent hangover would be punishment enough.
For a few years in my early twenties, I was part of a women's group that met once a month on the full-moon. They practiced a kind of spirituality; they called it witchcraft, even though they weren't Wiccan (which is an organized religion). When I told Daddy about it, he went out and bought a book about witchcraft so he could understand what I was interested in. Who does that? My Daddy, that's who! He was interested in what I was interested in. Another time, I went through my experimental phase in my twenties and desperately wanted to be a lesbian (I was doing an internship, doing psychotherapy, at the local Gay and Lesbian Community Center and loved the community so much that I wanted to be a part of it. Alas, it turned out I was heterosexual after all). Anyway, once I told my dad about one particular woman I had kissed. The only question he asked was, "is she nice?" He didn't care if I was gay or straight, only that I was with a good person!
My dad has always been supportive of whatever I want to do. He is especially supportive of my running and triathlon habit. He's thrilled I am working out consistently (especially given our family history of heart disease). A few months ago he gave me a gift card to iTunes, the perfect treat for a runner. He knew the way to his daughter's heart! He was so proud of me when I finally broke 2:30 in the half marathon a few weeks ago. Although he lives halfway across the country and is therefore not at my races, I know that if he lived locally he'd be at every finish line cheering me on. He's that kind of dad.
Daddy loves teaching---he's taught me many, many things over the years---all about football and baseball, how to shoot craps, how to play the guitar, just to name but a small few. He always knows what I'm capable of, even when I don't know it myself. One poignant moment for me was once when we went skiing. It was one of my first times, and at the end of the day he took me on an intermediate hills (I'd been skiing beginner hills all day). I was scared to death, but he told me, "I wouldn't let you do anything I knew you couldn't." And you know what? I got down that hill, and subsequently skied many intermediate hills. He taught me how to get down any hill safely--even if I accidentally found myself on an expert hill--by simply snow plowing and/or slowly zigzagging down the mountain. In that, he taught me a metaphor for life. I can get through anything if I try hard and break things into little chunks.
Daddy always told me that when I met the person I wanted to marry, he'd give me his opinion once and that would be it. I knew right away when he met J that it was a match made in heaven. My husband and my father get along so well.....he approved of J as soon as they met. He was thrilled when we got engaged. At our wedding, my plan was to surprise J during the reception by going up with the band and singing "Stand By Me" to him. Before the ceremony, I was a nervous wreck---I was excited about getting married, but was very emotional and overwhelmed. Before we walked down, he suggested that I sing "Stand By Me" with him, out in the vestibule. And I did. Singing with him, and a few other family members, calmed my nerves enough for me to walk down the aisle. He knew exactly what I needed. (By the way, later during the reception, my rendition of the song to my husband was a huge success!)
Because of the kind of man my father is, I sought out a similar man in my husband. J, like my dad, is also a rock. He unconditionally supports me, especially when I'm overwhelmed with my half marathon and triathlon training, when I overcommit in my volunteer work at the kid's schools, when I'm crying because the house is a disaster, the kids are driving me crazy, and the dog is acting hyper. Like Daddy, J can talk me down from the ledge and emotionally support me until I find my way again. Had I had not a father like the one I have, I'm not sure I would have searched such a man out. Daddy gave me the blueprint for the perfect man for me.
On today, Father's Day, I want to wish my Daddy a very happy Father's Day. Although I have tried, words truly cannot express the love I have for him.
I love you, Daddy.
June 6, 2012
Running: It's Who I Am
When I was a child, my family thought the way I ran was funny. My dad used to, as a joke, have me run on ahead of the family, and everyone would laugh at me. I didn't mind; I'm sure I DID run funny, and I certainly wasn't an athlete. I didn't mind adding some amusement to family outings. I hated running, and hated all things athletic. I was always the last picked for teams in P.E. Running laps in P.E., whether it was in elementary school, junior high or high school was tortuous for me.
Well, who's laughing now?
I may not be the fastest runner out there, and I may not run the farthest distances....but I am a runner.
I am now 42 years old, and just completed my 13th half marathon. I have also completed one full marathon and a gazillion 5ks. More than that, running is in my blood. It's in my soul. It's who I am. I am a runner.
I don't run every day; my body injures too easily for that. I try to run 3 times a week (two short runs and one long run). I cross train on the other 4 days of the week, swimming and cycling my little heart out, training for my triathlons. I love biking and swimming, but running is my true love. I am a runner first.
I don't remember the day I became a runner. I started running in 1998, doing tons of 5ks, then doing my first half marathon in 1999. I then quit running. I started again in 2003, and took up running because I wanted to cross "run a full marathon" off my bucket list. I did, and quit running again immediately after. I started to run again in the beginning of 2010, two and a half years ago, and I haven't stopped. It's now a core part of who I am, and I can't imagine ever NOT running. When I'm injured I do everything I can to get back to running. I am a runner.
Not all runs are good. Some runs suck. Some runs hurt. Some runs I feel like I'm slogging through, gasping for air, enduring all sorts of pain in my feet and legs. But then there are the good ones. The ones that feel like I'm literally flying, that my feet aren't touching the ground. The runs where I start upset about a problem, and come home with the solution all sorted out in my head. The runs where I feel like I can run for miles and miles and miles. Most runs, for me, lie somewhere in the middle. Again, not all runs are good----but the great ones keep me coming back for more.
I don't run to lose weight, or to even maintain my figure (although I HAVE lost weight as a natural byproduct, going from a size 8 to a solid size 6---and now a size 4 in most clothes). I started to run to be healthy. My family has a horrific history of heart disease, on both sides of the family, and I woke up one day and realized I needed to do something to avoid that fate. I also have osteopenia, which is one step above osteoporosis, and I decided that instead of taking medication, I would do life-style changes (calcium, vitamin D, and running). Running is the ultimate weight-bearing exercise, which can increase bone density. Of course, there is no guarantee I won't have a heart attack, or develop osteoporosis, but I'd like to think I'm trying my hardest in terms of prevention.
I don't talk about it much in real life, because I think people would think I'm a freak, but I think about running often. Actually, I think about it an awful lot. I love to read blogs written by other runners, reading race recaps for races I've never run, run by people I've never met. It inspires me. I get happy when my copy of Runner's World comes in the mail. Most importantly, I've connected with an amazing community of runners on Twitter and dailymile. I love talking about my runs, and hearing about others'. And I relate to my friends in real-life the most when they run, too. I have friends who hate running. What?!? I can't fathom it. Not anymore. The woman I've become is a runner.
I love other runners. Not every runner is nice, and not every runner is someone I relate to, but by and large I think runners are the best people out there. There are many communities I can relate to--women, moms, moms with kids with special needs, the Jewish community, heck, even triathletes--but put me in the middle of an expo before a race, or in the middle of the pack during a half marathon, and I feel at home. Runners are my peeps. I understand them, and they understand me. I love talking about all things running: training plans, races, shoes, injuries, gear. Oh, the gear. Only another runner understands getting up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday, when everyone else is sleeping in, to get their miles in.
Today is National Running Day, and fittingly, I celebrated with a run. I went on a 21 mile bike ride with a friend, and then ran 2 glorious hot and hilly miles after, making a brick for my triathlon training and an ode to my beloved running. Happy National Running Day, friends, Run like the wind, and enjoy your miles. I know I did....because I'm a runner.
Well, who's laughing now?
I may not be the fastest runner out there, and I may not run the farthest distances....but I am a runner.
I am now 42 years old, and just completed my 13th half marathon. I have also completed one full marathon and a gazillion 5ks. More than that, running is in my blood. It's in my soul. It's who I am. I am a runner.
I don't run every day; my body injures too easily for that. I try to run 3 times a week (two short runs and one long run). I cross train on the other 4 days of the week, swimming and cycling my little heart out, training for my triathlons. I love biking and swimming, but running is my true love. I am a runner first.
I don't remember the day I became a runner. I started running in 1998, doing tons of 5ks, then doing my first half marathon in 1999. I then quit running. I started again in 2003, and took up running because I wanted to cross "run a full marathon" off my bucket list. I did, and quit running again immediately after. I started to run again in the beginning of 2010, two and a half years ago, and I haven't stopped. It's now a core part of who I am, and I can't imagine ever NOT running. When I'm injured I do everything I can to get back to running. I am a runner.
Not all runs are good. Some runs suck. Some runs hurt. Some runs I feel like I'm slogging through, gasping for air, enduring all sorts of pain in my feet and legs. But then there are the good ones. The ones that feel like I'm literally flying, that my feet aren't touching the ground. The runs where I start upset about a problem, and come home with the solution all sorted out in my head. The runs where I feel like I can run for miles and miles and miles. Most runs, for me, lie somewhere in the middle. Again, not all runs are good----but the great ones keep me coming back for more.
I don't run to lose weight, or to even maintain my figure (although I HAVE lost weight as a natural byproduct, going from a size 8 to a solid size 6---and now a size 4 in most clothes). I started to run to be healthy. My family has a horrific history of heart disease, on both sides of the family, and I woke up one day and realized I needed to do something to avoid that fate. I also have osteopenia, which is one step above osteoporosis, and I decided that instead of taking medication, I would do life-style changes (calcium, vitamin D, and running). Running is the ultimate weight-bearing exercise, which can increase bone density. Of course, there is no guarantee I won't have a heart attack, or develop osteoporosis, but I'd like to think I'm trying my hardest in terms of prevention.
I don't talk about it much in real life, because I think people would think I'm a freak, but I think about running often. Actually, I think about it an awful lot. I love to read blogs written by other runners, reading race recaps for races I've never run, run by people I've never met. It inspires me. I get happy when my copy of Runner's World comes in the mail. Most importantly, I've connected with an amazing community of runners on Twitter and dailymile. I love talking about my runs, and hearing about others'. And I relate to my friends in real-life the most when they run, too. I have friends who hate running. What?!? I can't fathom it. Not anymore. The woman I've become is a runner.
I love other runners. Not every runner is nice, and not every runner is someone I relate to, but by and large I think runners are the best people out there. There are many communities I can relate to--women, moms, moms with kids with special needs, the Jewish community, heck, even triathletes--but put me in the middle of an expo before a race, or in the middle of the pack during a half marathon, and I feel at home. Runners are my peeps. I understand them, and they understand me. I love talking about all things running: training plans, races, shoes, injuries, gear. Oh, the gear. Only another runner understands getting up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday, when everyone else is sleeping in, to get their miles in.
Today is National Running Day, and fittingly, I celebrated with a run. I went on a 21 mile bike ride with a friend, and then ran 2 glorious hot and hilly miles after, making a brick for my triathlon training and an ode to my beloved running. Happy National Running Day, friends, Run like the wind, and enjoy your miles. I know I did....because I'm a runner.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
