When it comes to eating healthy, working out and getting enough sleep, I am very “routine”: I always eat a good breakfast; I usually work out every day right when I get home from work; and I make sure I’m in bed by about 10 p.m. every night. That way I start out the day on a good healthy-eating kick, I get in my exercise and de-stress in the middle of the day, and I make sure I get enough sleep to keep myself happy and energized to go again the next day.

But, when that routine is disrupted, maintaining a balanced lifestyle throws me totally off-kilter. And over the last month, I felt like I was balancing on one foot.

July started off with the wonderful, fun task of moving out of my apartment. Don’t get me wrong—I was excited to move into a new place with my boyfriend, with more space, a backyard, and a basement (which I refuse to call the “man cave”). But, the actual moving part was what I wasn’t so thrilled about.

For one week, my life consisted of working by day, packing by night, cleaning even later at night, and then [finally] sleeping. It seemed like the more boxes I filled and taped shut and labeled, the more my stuff just kept multiplying (especially my closet). But finally, I was all packed, my old apartment was cleaned, and I was ready to go.

Next came two nights of actually moving everything. I have to mention that I lived on the second floor, with no elevator. I can’t tell you how many flights of stairs I went up and down, up and down; and, with all that lifting and carrying, I don’t think my arms have had that good a workout in a long time.

We thought that once we got everything moved in, the unpacking would be no problem. Oh no—for as long as it took to get all that stuff packed up, it seems to take even longer to unpack and reorganize, because three weeks later, I’m ashamed to admit we still have a couple boxes waiting to be unpacked in the garage.

On top of the whole moving ordeal, add in 10 straight days of stressful work, usually from sun-up to sun-down, which meant I definitely wasn’t sleeping enough, or sleeping well; and then, a 5-day trip to visit the boyfriend’s family thrown into the mix.

I think I would estimate that over the month of July, I worked out a total of five times, slept 6 hours or less most nights, and definitely had more than my fair share of chocolate ice cream, pizza and wine.

My routine has taken a hit, and I can definitely feel it in my body—I just don’t feel as good as I normally do.

Such is life, and thankfully, things have slowed down since last week. I was able to work out a couple times last week, I have been cooking healthy meals almost every night, and I’ve been happily going to bed early every night.

But truthfully, there’s always something, isn’t there? We admittedly get in over our heads sometimes and just can’t keep up, but it’s how you respond to those times and get back on track afterward that makes the difference.

I finally feel my other foot coming back on the ground, and my happy life balance is slowly coming back.

zzzzZZZzzzZzzzZZ,
Amanda
@jockey_amanda

A few weeks ago, I had the chance to play in the mud. I couldn’t pass that up! So, my roommate and I signed up for my new favorite race: the Warrior Dash.

Several of my friends had run the Warrior Dash before. They had told me it was a difficult 3-mile muddy run full of obstacles to climb over, like giant wooden walls and piles of cars, and that you had to jump over fire pits to cross the finish.

I thought they were exaggerating… I was wrong.

My friends and I got to the Warrior Dash after a very bumpy ride through a farm’s field, i.e. the parking lot. As we waited in line, we scoped out the people who had run in the waves before us; they came walking slowly from the finish line area, covered from torso to toe in mud, some laughing, some looking exhausted, some looking just plain weird (weird = the men in muddy pink tutus).

As we watched people walking around, we still weren’t sure what to expect. Then I heard someone say, “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done!” and wondered what I had gotten myself into this time.

We waited like cattle in the starting area, and after a sudden countdown from 10 to 1, we were off! It was a nice leisurely jog at first, along pretty woods and soft field dirt. I could get used to this, I thought; it’s a walk in the park!

Then we got to the first hill: a steep muddy incline that made it virtually impossible to stay on your feet. At the bottom, we had to cross a stream…then climb up the other side of the muddy bank with the throngs of fanatical racers.

As I got passed by a man dressed in a black suit and aviator goggles (really), I spied our next obstacle across the field: people were hurdling up the side of a 15-foot wooden wall and over the top to who knows what on the other side. As we approached, I wondered if my spindly arms could take on this beast of a wall. I decided that I better suck it up since I knew there were several more climbing obstacles coming my way. So, I grabbed the rope, mustered my little arm strength, and made it up and over!

With one wall mastered, I made my way through the 3-mile run, one obstacle at a time… Up and over more walls, through an army-style tire course, jumping from platform to platform above the ground, climbing over destroyed cars, scuttling over nets, and avoiding flying elbows and knees.

Then I saw it ahead: the two tiers of flaming dirt that I had to jump over. The “warrior roast,” they called it.

This obstacle was for real?!

I could see the finish line from there, and I was thirsting for my free malty beverage that lay just beyond the endpoint. I took a breath, ran as fast as I could, and took a leap. I tried to call back good form from my hurdling days in high school, hoping I wouldn’t fall this time. I must be a natural born fire-leaper, because I didn’t even feel the slightest lick of a flame on my ankles.

I was almost there—but one more obstacle lay in my way. Up to this point, I couldn’t understand why people who had finished the race before me were SO muddy. The warrior gods shone down on the answer: a giant 20-foot long mud pit glinted (er, gurgled) in the sun with barbed wire strung above it. You had to get down and dirty in almost two feet of mud to get under that wire without getting caught.

Luckily, I had no issues getting a little mud under my nails. I swam my way to the end, got my muddy butt up, and crossed the finish line with my roommate right next to me.

We’re warriors now!

(My once-pedicured toenails have the scars to prove it.)

Stay tough,
Amanda
@jockey_amanda

I want to start off with a few numbers:

- 10 people
- 197 miles
- 4 legs
- 18 miles
- 45 minutes
- 2 times
- 28 hours

What do they mean?

Last weekend, I ran the Ragnar Relay race from Madison, Wisconsin to Chicago, Illinois. There were 10 people on my team. Together, we ran 197 miles over 30 separate legs (run segments). Of those, I ran 4 legs, which meant I had to run a little over 18 miles total in less than 24 hours.

My teammates and I waited at the starting line at 8:45am on Saturday morning, and that was the first time I wondered, Could I do this? I thought I was in shape, but was I really an athlete that could run 18 miles in less than a day? I’d soon find out.

Our first runner, Sami, started with a 9 mile leg at 9am, leading off our team on this loooong running trip across Wisconsin and Illinois. I didn’t have to wait too long to hit the ground running myself; by 11:30am, I was gearing up for my first leg of 7.2 miles. It would be my longest leg, so I was happy to get it out of the way first.

When my teammate before me finished her leg, she handed off our “baton” (really just a slap bracelet) and I took off. Watching the other runners all morning and anticipating my turn had my adrenaline pumping; I was aiming for a 10-minute-per-mile running pace for all my runs, but as I passed the first mile point of my 7-miler, I looked at my watch and saw a 9:12 flashing at me. Whoops! I tried to slow down so I wouldn’t burn myself out, but it was hard making my legs calm down. I don’t think I did a good job of pacing myself because by mile 5, I was starting to feel very tired. Not good, considering I still had two more miles to go, plus three more runs after this one! When I finally finished, I was pooped and hot and tired. But, I took solace in the fact that my longest run was over.

We traveled on to the next exchange areas for the runners on our team, and eventually our first 6 runners were done with our first legs—time to rest! We got some subs, and then we laid down on the ground on blankets for about 1.5 hours and just rested our bodies before it was time to get moving once more.

By about 9:30pm, I was getting ready to run again. I had a 4.5 mile run along a nice bike trail, but was a bit creeped out that I had to run on it at night. Luckily, there were many other runners all around me. I was starting to slow down (oh, the fatigue!), when another runner caught up to me slowly; we started chatting and she helped me pick up my pace again. We ran the last couple of miles together, before sprinting in to hand off to our teams. I was so glad this runner friend turned up just when I needed someone to help me through!

When we finally finished our legs, we had time to rest again—it was 1:30am and we SO wanted to sleep. Sadly, I only had about 45 minutes of sleep before it was time to go AGAIN. And this time, I was our first runner, so I had to wake up fast.

As I stood, half-asleep like a zombie, at the exchange point at 3am, shivering in the cold night and the misty rain that had started to fall, I wondered for the second time, Could I really do this? And, more importantly, Had I lost my mind?! It was 3am and I was about to run 4 miles through the streets of a not-so-safe town; WHAT was I doing? But before I could think about it too much, my teammate handed off to me and I began to run. Just run.

There were plenty of other runners around me, once again, so I quickly realized that I didn’t need to worry about my safety while running in the wee hours of the morning. While I groggily ran the four miles of my third leg, I tried to take in the peacefulness that comes with running in the middle of the night: bugs chirping here and there; a lone pair of tiny headlights slowly growing until they passed; the loud sound of silence that reverberated against the sound of my footfalls on the sidewalk. These were things I don’t normally get to experience during day runs. This was a whole new world I was running in. Before I knew it, the 4 miles was over and I was handing off the baton again.

But don’t worry—I still had one more leg to run! All I wanted to do was close my eyes and take a nap, but I only had about 1.5 hours until I had to run my final leg of 3 miles. As I sat stretching and guzzling Gatorade, struggling to keep my falling peepers open, I thought about how nice and easy a simple 3-mile run would be.

And then it was time. The baton came, I went. I can’t say it was an easy three miles, but, I did it. My legs and body were so tired that I just kept telling myself to keep going and finish—it didn’t even matter how fast I went.

But, of course, I still managed to finish at my 10-minutes-per-mile pace, because we know I can’t not care how fast I go… As I got to the line and handed off the baton for the last time, I took a (gasping) sigh of relief. I was done—I had run 18 miles and I was DONE!

Several hours later, our entire team crossed the finish line in Chicago, Illinois, 28 hours after we had begun the race the day before. I marveled at the fact that 10 people could run 197 miles in such a short amount of time—and reassured myself that even though I had many moments during which I wondered if I had lost my sanity out there on the pavement somewhere on the way to Chicago, at least I was in good (equally crazy) company.

What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

P.S. The medal we got upon finishing couldn’t be any cooler—don’t you agree? C’mon, it’s a bottle opener! You better believe I tested it out that night when I got home.

Just run.
Amanda
@jockey_amanda

Last weekend, I laced up my running shoes for a great cause: Girls on the Run®!

My older sister and I signed up to race with the Northwest Illinois division, which included about 650 young girls, each with an older “running buddy” to guide and cheer them through a 5K race. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but when my alarm went off at 6am on Sunday morning, I was excited to see what was in store for me.

My sister and I got to the race area, and I met my 10-year-old buddy, Lexi, who was quiet at first. As we stretched with the decorated group of girls from her school, she fidgeted with the giant flower in her spray-painted hair and the plastic beaded necklace around her neck. (I got lucky and missed the hair spray-paint pre-race festivity…my sister, however, went home with green, pink and yellow striped hair!)

I asked Lexi about her school, how long they had been training to run, and was she nervous? She said they had been meeting twice a week at her school to run, talk about things going on in their young lives, and have fun with friends. The week before, they had done a training run of 3 miles. It was hard and she had to walk some, she said, but she finished it! So, she was nervous, but more excited.

“Did you do a training run?” she asked me.

“Oh…I did a couple.” I said nonchalantly. (I wasn’t sure what she might think if I told her I had run 13 miles a few weeks earlier!)

As we corralled into a mass of giggling, jumping girls and older (also bouncing around) adult buddies, we kept stretching and chatting away. I learned that Lexi was also in soccer, about to get her black belt in karate, liked playing volleyball, wanted to join track and cross-country in two years, and also wanted to start learning how to ride horses. Busy girl! We sang along to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” and before we knew it, we were counting down to the start.

10…9…8…

“You look like you’ll be pretty fast,” I said to Lexi. “Am I going to be able to keep up with you?”

“Don’t worry…I can slow down for you!” she replied.

I laughed to myself, and then, we took off. We ran slow and steady for the first several minutes, and almost a mile into the run, I was so impressed that all these young girls were able to run so far, especially with their legs half the length of mine! Everyone was smiling, encouraging each other, and cheering their girl friends along. It was inspiring to see all these young girls there for each other and helping each other.

We ran and walked our way along the 5K route to the sounds of encouraging parents and brothers and neighbors; when we stopped to walk, we picked a landmark ahead (a lamp post, a tree, a car) to start running at again. When we ran past others who were walking, we gave them a boost and told them they were doing great as well. When we finally got about a quarter mile from the finish, we figured out what to do as our victory pose as we crossed the finish line. Adrenaline kicked in, and Lexi took off—and this time, I was afraid I actually wouldn’t keep up! We sprinted our way to the finish, through the giant pink and green balloon arch, to the tune of cheering parents and friends. As we crossed the finish line, we threw up our arms and joined in the cheers. Lexi got her medal, her dad snapped a photo of us, and then we went to cool down and stretch.

The whole experience was so great: to see so many young girls there, excited to be running even though it was early on a Sunday morning, and their parents so thrilled for them, really made me so happy and inspired. To me, it didn’t seem like a big deal to join the 5K and run with my buddy, but in the end I could see the difference it made. I will definitely participate again next year, and I encourage you to see if there is a Girls on the Run division nearby you! You can check here: http://www.girlsontherun.org/map.html.

And now, I leave for my next running adventure. Pictures and stories to come next week, folks.

Fat Stats:
Starting weight: 166 pounds
Last week: 149 pounds
This week: 149 pounds
Goal weight: 145 pounds

Happy days,
Amanda
@jockey_amanda