Hell, yeah...

it's marathong training time!

Today, just a few short hours from now, hubby and I will be doing run two of week one of MARATHON TRAINING! Yes, already into the second run of our training!

I.

Am.

Excited!!!

The other day the hubs and I got our babysitter slash usually-at-our-house-anyways next door neighbor, to come and stay with the kiddos while we had a dessert picnic at the beach. We even went for a sunset dip in the water. Yes, I know...very romantic and sappy, but, after almost 12 years of being together we still really, really, really like each other, yup, go ahead and be amazed, surprised and hopefully inspired. Ha! As we arrived to our favorite Isabela beach, we saw a running group doing their "thang" and it fire me up as I thought about this week and our training. Now that I officially feel like a runner, I have also found a love for the almost artistic beauty that I find in runners. I love to look at them. Not in a weird, stalker kind of way, just a "you are so damn cool and I love being part of this, yours, our community" kind of way. I love seeing the way their individual muscles pop, love seeing the legs pumping, love checking out each person's unique stride, form and strike. Love seeing all the gear or lack of that a runner chooses to run with. Love seeing the worn out shoes and knowing how comfy they must feel or cringing at the brand news ones, imagining the potential blisters they are forming. I love seeing the faces. Does their face show bliss, torture, happiness, joy, anger, stress or frustration? Maybe their face shows something that only they can explain, only to remain an unanswered mystery to me? I like to imagine the many reasons of why a runner chooses to run. Do they run for fitness, for the relief, for someone, to get out of the house, for friendship, for love or even hate? It's a damn cool world, the world of runners...

But, above all of these wonderful reasons, the reason I love most about being near and/or watching other runners is that always, and I mean always, I am left inspired. If I am passively watching, this inspiration makes me wish my ass was out there running too and if I am passing a runner, it only propels me to run a littler harder, to run a little faster. Watching other runners motivates me, pumps me up! After so many years of inactivity and couch surfing and face stuffing, I feel lucky to be a part of the world of running, so I am still in awe of it all. 

There is an energy that a runner carries with them, an energy that with each step forward only gets stronger. Its infectious! And I love it, crave it and am completely addicted to it.

I hope this is not just a newbie thing... I hope that I feel this way, well... for forever!    

I want me and running to be BFFs for life, yo!

Speaking of...this BFF of mine has helped me reach some major milestones. I am so close to my weight goal I can almost taste it and it has been super exciting seeing how little by little I can see my body tightening up and getting fitter looking, responding that way it should to good & healthy eating habits and plain ol' exercise.

I know it has been a couple of months since I last posted my "sacred numbers" and thought that it was probably time again for another posting. Along with the numbers I will be doing something, never before done here at Chica & Bella's blog, and that is... post a before and after photo progress of myself. Eeeeeek!

Bella's Not-So-Secret-Sacred Numbers

Height: 5'2"

Weight: 135

Waist: 29.25

Bum: 37.25

Thighs: 21.5

Biceps: 10.5

Total Loss: 3.4 lbs. & 2.75 inches - Sooooo, close to my "final" goal!!!

So, there you have it, friends. You have officially entered into my "circle of trust" (name that movie...ready, set, go!) and you have my sacred numbers and damning evidence of my "past." On a serious note, I just want to quickly say that I don't post these numbers or pictures as a way to brag, cuz honestly, I am still in awe and disbelief of it all. But I share this, because if you are "there," I want you to know that I used to be "there" too. As a former try-er of any and all fad diets and shortcuts, I  also want you to know that the only thing that worked for me was plain ol' good eating habits and exercise (yeah, I know, sucky that there is no magic pill or potion), but the very good news is that I am just a regular, mostly unathletic, very clumsy, adore-er of food and hater of exercise AND if I can do it...

SO CAN YOU!!!

Love&Hugs,

Bella

Resting before the storm...

the kick-ass storm that is!

This, almost 2 week rest has been, well, interesting. A roller coaster of emotions, and thoughts and energy. I've come to the conclusion that this "running business" not only is addictive as hell, but can make a person kind of psycho! 

I remember the night before my race, the Hubs and I sat on our beautiful balcony, overlooking the San Juan coastline, and I told him that we needed to figure out our next running "step" right then and there. Between the paranoid morbid talks of a possible tsunami and verbally making up our living will and testament (as of date, we have still not done that on paper...ugh!) I wanted to be sure that I wouldn't experience that horrible depression that comes after a race. From what I have heard and read, post-race depression, is quiet normal. It makes total sense. As runners, we spend months, upon months training for a race, a race that lasts mere hours. You cross that finish line, get your medal and then, "what?!" What happens now...? Maybe, you feel a little bit underwhelmed with your performance, time or simply you experience a unexplainable case of the blues.  Whatever the reasons for post-depression blues, I was bound and determined not to let it happen to me. So, there I was, talking to the Hubs and planning out a detailed plan (yes, folks, I am definitely a Type A) on how I, Bella, would not become a victim of the horrible post-race blues. At least, not again (you can read all about how "blue" I felt after my first 5K, here)

I had it all planned out. I would take one week, yes, you read that right, one measly week to recover. During that "recovery" week, I would do some slow and easy 1 milers, just to "get the blood flowing" and then I would gear up for a full marathon training program. Except, I decided that I would start the training program where the half-marathon training left off. I would run a 10-miler about a week and a half from the day of the race. In my mind, we would finish our marathon training, keep adding more miles until January when we would do the Disney Marathon. All of this, the night before the race sounded like a solid and genius plan. I was sure it would be how everything played out.

Insane, right?! At the time I didn't think so, today I sing to a different tune.

What the frak was I thinking? 

Instead, this is what really happened: I could barely move, much less bend my legs after the race. It was, by far, the hardest run I have ever completed. The hills killed my knees, and the intense knee pain masked what later I found out was plantar fasciitis or "runner's heel" and that, my friends, was killer. I couldn't put any weight on my right heel, and everything else hurt due to over compensation. The first week, I did hardly anything. Stood on my feet the least amount of time possible, and iced, rolled, massaged and used a healing homeopathic essential oil blend. At times it felt like all of those things were working, and times the pain was so intense that it made me feel like I hadn't made any improvement. Was this the end of my running hobby? Had I pushed too hard for the race? Why hadn't I done more hills during training? Damn it, damn it, damn it! I was itchy to get back out there, regulating my breathing, feeling the breeze on my face, feeling my heart pumping almost in unison with my strikes, but I could barely stand, much less walk and forget about running. It terrified me that maybe I had done some major damage. Luckily, I have an amazing group of people, all runners, who reassure me that this was normal. They told me to keep icing, keep babying the injury and that before I knew it I would be back to normal. With everything inside me, I hoped and wished they were right.

I took that down time to plan out my next running move. The Hubs and I decided that we would not do the Disney Marathon this year and instead take a whole year to train for the next Puerto Rico Marathon (May 2014). We would take it slow, starting the program from scratch, to gives us plenty of time to concentrate on improving form, strike, stride, posture, fitness levels and nutrition. Plus, taking a whole year to train would us give plenty of room for unexpected illness, injuries, family vacations and out-of-town visitors. To battle the post-race blues, we researched all the island races that will take place from now until May and plan on doing as many races as we can. I figure this will keep us, in a way, always training for something. 

Last weekend, the Hubs and I decided we would go on a snorkeling date, just the two of us, with our Princess in the good hands of our next-door neighbor and babysitter, K, we grabbed our gear and headed out. By then, my knee pain had completely subsided and the heel was just about back to normal. In a probably very stupid move, and with a sudden burst of energy to propel me, I decided to go on a very short, easy and slow run on the beach. My legs felt great, my very purposeful mid-foot strike didn't bother my heel at all and I felt light as a feather. My heart was pumping and my lungs were full of the salty beachy air. It felt so great, I felt alive and I knew I was BACK! The gods were smiling on me because as stupid as running on the beach probably, most likely, was, my heel kept improving and today I feel zero pain. A few days later I went on a trial run around my neighborhood. I made a conscious effort to zone in on my strike and form and took the mile very easy. It felt great and I am just beyond relieved that I can run again.

I am learning that rest is like a dirty word for a runner and that the thought of not being able to run kills the spirit. BUT...rest is a necessary, actually more like crucial part of training, and most injuries, with proper care, will eventually heal. There is a season for everything. At times I will need  to rest. There will be unexpected events, injuries and situations that will arise, that won't allow me to run. Something or other will put a temporary halt to my training. I am learning take those interruptions for what they are, simple temporary breaks, and not allow them to break my spirit or motivation. But, the thing that I think is the most important that I learn is that with proper care, proper restraint and the proper attitude, I might just come off a break stronger than ever. Refreshed and ready to hit the pavement once again.

Next week, the Hubs and I, will officially start marathon training. We will use, "The Non-Runner's Marathon Trainer" by Whitsett, Dolgener and Kole as our guide. We are both psyched out of our mind and look forward to seeing our endurance, speed and time improve. 

Until then, I will take the next several days to continue resting and planning for the weeks and months to come and try not get ahead of myself always reminding myself to "enjoy the process!"   

Our "chat" time has come to an end for now, but don't worry we will "talk" again soon, until next time I leave you with a couple of questions:

Have you every experience post-race blues? What did YOU do to battle it and move forward?

Love&Hugs,
Bella

My First 1/2 Marathon Weekend

Have you ever been so excited to tell someone a story that you don't even know how or where to start, and then it becomes even more difficult when you have to write it down for millions...errr...I mean, for a handful of faithful, awesome, amazing followers to read and all the while worrying about spelling and grammar and shit? 

Yeah, me too...

This weekend was just...oh gosh, how do I put this...? A-maaaa-zing!

On Friday, the Hubs texts me that he is on his way from work and that he was going to stop at the post office on his way home. While I found it odd, I didn't give it a second thought. Why did I find that text convo weird, you ask? Well, we have a P.O. Box (its the thing that is recommended here in PR) and we are what a person might call "lazy" in our mail pick-up, although, another person might look at it as efficient and even a little green in not checking the post office every single day. We are saving time, gas, energy and the environment. A third person could even say we are the Atmosphere's Heroes! 

Okay, after writing all of this, I realize that I still haven't answered your question as to why I found my text conversation with the hubs weird. Sorry, friends, I tend to get sidetracked a little bit. The reason I found it weird and a bit odd was because we had just checked the mail like 2 days before. Duh! So, now you see why that would be weird, right?! (For those Judgy McJudgy, most-likely-jegging wearing people, I am not ashamed to admit it, we are "those" people who will at any given time find a note, no mail, just a note, from the post master telling them that they ran out of room in our box and we need to pick up our bulk of mail at the front desk. I don't care...judge away!)

Moving on with my incredible Half Marathon Weekend...

So hubs comes home and I see that he has one measly little envelope in his hand (total disappointment and probably a stupid bill too) but as I looked a little to the right, there it was, firmly in his other hand, a glorious and beautiful package! Score!!! (P.S. I am that person, who upon seeing a package or handwritten card, regardless of who the sender or receiver is, becomes a jumping up-and-down, giddy school girl. I can't help it, seriously I can't. Its involuntary. My cross to bear...) 

I see that the package is from the none other and the always smiling, Sweet Missy. That my friends is a double score because I instantly knew it was addressed to ME! I found out several minutes later that she had sneakily texted the Hubs and told him about the package and that is how he knew to go check our box. I just love surprises, don't you?! I got, oh so, very excited that I didn't even use a knife or scissors (I don't have super strength or anything, it's simply a gift) to open it and when I finally got it opened this is what I find:

She is the greatest...even remembered that I like to run
with gum  (not pictured here) and sent me a pack!

Isn't that sweet, y'all?! 

If you wonder why she got that nickname, Sweet Missy, all you have to do is read this post and if you need further evidence just look at some of the texts she sent:

She did encourage...Sending texts the whole time and
she is even more awesome because it was 4am, Oklahoma time! 

This came in right as I was doing the last mile. Simply beyond words....

Sweet Missy, also a marathoner, is coming off a tiny break from training, and we
both look forward to the day when we can run a race together.

She is the best! I told her that her wisdom, advice, tips and brutal honesty was a crucial part of my training! Everything that she advised me on came to beneficial fruition the days before and the day of the race. I think she could make an amazing running coach! So, Sweet Missy, if you are reading this, I think you should quit your corporate job and become a coach, for reals, yo!

Getting this care package really helped kick-start this weekend for me. It was when I felt for the first time real butterflies in my tummy. I always thought people confused nervous stomach aches/pains with feeling "butterflies flutter" in their stomachs until I felt it. All of the sudden it hit me. OM gosh, I would be running in my first ever half marathon in two days. Two days!!! TWO DAYS!!!

Saturday we woke up very early and got the car all packed and ready to go. With my green juice in hand and plenty of water we got on the road. We made a small pit stop to pick up Chica's Grandparent In-Law (I think I might have made up that term...somehow just looks and sounds super weird...) and headed towards San Juan and the hotel where already Chica and her husband would be waiting for us. I didn't take any picture of the place but it was amazing... (this tripadvisor.com link has some great pics ----> Caribe Hilton San Juan) The hotel was the host hotel and walking distance from the finish line and even provided shuttles the morning of to take runners and their families to the starting line.

I wanted to get to the hotel early Saturday so we could take full of advantage of the resort and its beautiful pools and beach. After doing our early check-in, we quickly got into our bathing suits and had one of the most perfect breakfasts at one of their restaurants and was super impressed at what the omelette chef (I doubt that his chef abilities are just omelette making, but the conversation was had while he was making my wonderfully tasting omelette...hence, omelette chef!) told me regarding the hotel's policy on taking special dietary precautions for anyone needing it. As a Celiac hearing something like this was like a gift from the heavens and you guessed it, all weekend we didn't eat or order food from anywhere other than the hotel's kitchens and I am happy to report that I was pain and tummy-trouble free for all of it! Hilton, you rocked my life!

Across the street from the hotel was the convention center where we picked up our bib and chip. So, we headed there before the pool and got that out of the way. We originally planned on going back at 2pm for the runner's orientation but laying out by the pool was so fun that we lost track of time and completely missed it. Oopsy!

Oh, yeah! 

The Loot

Don't remember why I made this heinous face, enjoy it none the less and your welcome!

Even Princess was excited!

Hanging out by the pool with the Hubs and my Toddler Princess all day was simply divine, add to that a good serving of hang-out time with Chica and her hubby, plus a spoonful of the sweetest grandparents and I had the perfect recipe for the perfect weekend with the perfect cheerleaders. So many of the runners were staying at the host hotel and you could feel the excitement and anxiousness in the atmosphere. It was so freaking great! Everywhere you turned there were people talking about the race and you could frequently hear random running tips and advice being uttered, basically everywhere you turned. It was like music to a runner's ears! For someone who has never been a part of anything remotely athletic it felt nice to be part of a "team" of sorts. So many of us there, all coming together for the same event with the same common interests. 

We all decided that it would be a smart idea to call it an early night and so after a fun day laying out by the pool and people watching we headed to our respective hotel rooms and got ready for dinner. Chica and her family drove over to the Condado area looking for a fun restaurant to have dinner at and we decided to go for a family walk to find a place that sold ice cream (we sometimes like to have our dessert before dinner.) When we got back we found out that the restaurant where we had breakfast at only opened for brunch but fortunately for us, it was also the restaurant that cooked all the meals for room service. So, room service it became. Before heading to our room we made a quick Startbucks coffee/tea stop and I ordered the biggest Soy Iced Chai I could get.  A pre-victory celebratory treat! I know, I know...our meal courses all out of whack, but it keeps our dining experience interesting and fun. If you haven't tried this, you should. I promise that you might not be disappointed. Finally, dinner was amazing! I had a Churrasco with grilled veggies and Boricua style white rice and it was 100% delicious! 

Part of the hotel view. I am from PR and it still takes my breath away!

Chica and I decided that before going to bed we would meet downstairs for a pre-race pep-talk. The Hubs graciously took care of Toddler Princess' bedtime ritual and at 7pm I headed downstairs. Chica and I had the best pep-talk, while it was only our first pre-race pep talk, I am sure if you had been there, you too, would agree that it should go down as the best-pep talk in all of history. I am not trying to be cocky, we are just that awesome! 

A little sun-kissed!

An hour later I was back in my room and with Princess fast asleep (thank you, Hubs of the Eternity), Hubs and I took advantage of our ocean view balcony and planned the next days events. We talked about the mile points where he would be able to cheer us on and take pictures and discussed what knick-knacks and things he would take to keep the Princess happy and entertained. Somehow we (he will say that I did most of the talking...) made a contingency plan in the event of an earthquake dash tsunami and verbally "wrote" up a detailed will and testament for our children (I tend to get a little morbid when I am nervous. I think it might be a coping mechanism, I didn't get far enough in my Psych degree to officially diagnose myself.) Finally, at around 9:30pm we headed off to bed ourselves. 

Unfortunately, physically get into bed is all I did because as my beautiful daughter and hubby laid peacefully sleeping the night away I laid AWAKE! I counted 156 Fireworks, visualizing each firework exploding in my mind's made-up sky before silently counting the next number, I played five lives of Candy Crush Saga (curse you level 29), read a super long blog post of tips and advice for before, during and after the race and watched several muted YouTube videos on how to properly tape your Achilles tendon. I just couldn't fall asleep, my mind was going bonkers! After finally admitting to myself that I wasn't going to "just" fall asleep I succumbed to taking a natural sleeping aid. The last I look at my phone it said 12:30-something AM. Grrrr, right?! 

My alarm was set for this:

Frak my life! Double, grrr! 

Luckily, the sleeping aid kicked in really fast and at least got one and half hours of rest. Its true what they say about how the adrenaline and excitement carries you through something like this because when the first alarm went off, I shot out of bed and was basically ready to go. After quickly making us a good serving of green juice (oh yeah, brought the juicer along for the adventure) and leaving it to cool with some ice I jumped in the very spacious shower and took a long, long hot shower and stretched my muscles and mentally got myself all "pumped up" and excited. 

We met up with Chica and her family at around 4am, and after lots of hugs and lots of "good lucks," Chica and I boarded one of the shuttles to take us to the start line. Our families would meet us at Mile 1 to cheer us on, have snacks/energy stuff ready for us if we needed the extra boost and take lots of pictures. They also did this for Mile 3, Mile 9, Mile 12 and had plenty of time to still get to the Finish Line. See...now you know why I said we had the best cheerleaders, ever! Side-note: whoever is in charge of designing running courses is a freaking genius! I mean it!!! 

How can I even begin to describe what happened after we arrived? Where to even start?! Runners everywhere. All shapes and sizes, all ages, all different levels of experience and all with their own unique motivation for doing the race. Stretching. Jumping up and down. Some with very serious faces. Some giddy and giggly, like Chica and I. Chanting. Singing. And, it being Puerto Rico, lots and lots of dancing. Everyone doing their own unique combination of things to get ready for the race. This was great! 

And, A LOT of flashes. Pictures...EVERYWHERE!!! Family and friends taking shots of their loved ones and the event photographers documenting the event. I guess, this is what the Rich&Famous must feel like... 

Chica and I positioned ourselves behind this average pace sign:

Us again...super pumped and ready to go!

The event announcer was so fun and did an amazing job with translating everything he said for the English speakers. He did a great job encouraging us, and every couple of minutes would tell us to dance and holler and I had to keep reminding myself to stay chilled and collected, to try to stay a bit under control in order to not completely implode right then and there. I have heard before that some people get swept away by all the excitement in the air and the adrenaline makes then "shoot out" at the start line and they experience early burn out. I was determined to not let that happen to us, so we decided that we would move from right behind the 12 min/mile flag to just before the 13 min/mile flag. I am so glad that we did that because I was able to finally find my neighbor (he ran the Full Marathon and did great, congrats Isaac!!!) and wish him and his running buddies good luck. 

We started and finished the race keeping a steady pace the whole time, and thanks to that we were able to take plenty of water and potty breaks as needed and still ended up with an average pace of 14:24 min/mile. Which meant that because Chica and I stayed under the cut-off time we would receive the beautiful finishers medal. Finishing and getting the medal was our #1 goal, and we did it! Woohoo! 

Us at mile 1, 3 and 9!

My only "hindsight" regret is that I wished I had incorporated more hills in my training because this course was hilly as hell, despite the fact that it was described as a flat course (I am mentally tsk-ing the event organizers in my head as I type this.) It caught me totally off guard and the up and down, up and down, all-the-way-to-the-end type of up and down, really made the knee pain worse. Luckily, I used all the middle-of-the-night acquired knowledge and taped my Achilles tendon and thankfully never had problems during the race and have not experienced any pain or discomfort since the race either. Thank you, YouTube! 

I have only experience "hitting the wall" a few times, and it was mostly on some of the runs that came after my first seven-miler. But, friends...Did I hit a ginormous wall or what?! At mile 10-ish I felt like I just couldn't go any further. My knee felt awful, I was super wore out, was desperate for some ice, water, Gatorade, anything, and the only thing that propelled me forward was letting my mind go blank and concentrate on a strike at a time. I could have just sat down and given up...its what my body was screaming for BUT...

I refused to verbally express those thoughts. I knew that if I allowed my lips to utter those words I would be doomed! I would allow those thoughts to fester for a second then I would just swipe them out of my head before my mind could visualize them. I had a goal, dammit, I would finish this race even if it killed me AND I would receive my medal even if it meant I would end up in the hands of a handsome medic at the end (aren't all medics suppose to be handsome??!!.) Sounds a little bit psycho when I read over this paragraph again, but I was determined, DETERMINED!!! 

The last couple of miles, I have to mentioned, were the hardest. Not physically, I was able to beat that by the time we reached mile 11, but definitely challenging mentally. The side line volunteers and other runner who had already finished would tell us, "you are almost there, " "the finish is just right ahead," and "you are just about done," but man, it felt like an eternity before we finally rounded the corner and saw the finish line. Finally, towards the end, I stopped a kind sir and asked him where exactly the finish was and thankfully he quickly pointed towards it and we could actually see a bit of it. Friends, can I just tell you that it is beyond words what I felt when I finally, after what felt like a lifetime, could see with my very own eyes the actual finish line and it was just straight ahead. Beyond words, friends, beyond words.

Got very, very, very emotional. Probably a
total of like 10 minutes of sobbing! No lie!

Hugging my running buddy and enjoying our victory!

An ice bath has never, EVER felt so damn nice! Glorious!

One of the things that I will never forget was the incredible feeling of having someone put a medal around me. It was like time slowed down a bit and as I bent down slightly so the lady could "medal" me, I distinctly felt the fabric of the ribbon gently lay on my neck and chest and the medal find its resting place on my tummy. It was a visual representation of the hard work, the tears, the pain and the challenge that I had experienced! I felt like a winner! I felt like a champion! 

As, I finished this post, I still feel on cloud nine. It feels a little like a dream, not quite fully real yet. It was tough and it challenged me physically, emotionally and mentally. At times I wanted to give up, say, "forget this shit" and go home, but I stuck it out, I pushed hard and earned my medal. The greatest part is the satisfaction of proving to myself that what I set my mind to do, I do. I may not be the fastest or best half marathoner but, as of 8:08am on May 5th, I became a half marathoner! The girl who struggled to complete 20 minutes of straight running, ran a HALF MARATHON!!! 13.1 miles and I did it!!!

Sooooo, pretty!!!

On the way home, tired and sore but ELATED!

I, Bella, am a Half-Marathon runner!

Maybe my running journey into the world of half marathons isn't typical. Maybe I went through things that runners never experience, maybe it is normal, I don't really know. What I do know is that I couldn't have gone through this journey and I can't fully bask in my victory without acknowledging some key people that helped make all of this possible.

First a big thank you to YOU, yes, you, our faithful readers, for how ever few you may be, you propelled us to go further and further. You became the voice in my head and I would oftentimes visualize you at home, in front of your laptop or computer, anxiously waiting to read about the next running adventure. You became our virtual accountability and part of this medal goes to you! 

A big thank you to my wonderful, running partner, Chica. You started this whole crazy adventure and went on this journey with me. I have never felt as healthy, fit and happy as I do right now. My life is forever changed! 

Sweet Missy, I will not get tired of telling you how thankful I am for all of your advice, support, encouragement, tips and brutal honesty. Your shoe tips saved me. Your "soak it all up" advice carried me. The personal stories you shared made me feel less "whack" and I am so glad that the "missing puzzle piece" to our common interests doesn't exist any more. I look forward to our first race together, far more than simple words can express! I love you and miss you dearly!

And last, but certainly not least, my wonderful hubby and Kiddos. Babe: You were my biggest supporter and cheerleader from the very beginning until the very end. You watched out for my diet, gave me countless muscle rubs, helped heal me when I fell ill and constantly praised me and encouraged me. You selflessly made this whole weekend about me, putting yourself on the back burner, doing whatever necessary to help me get ready and caring for our Princess for the majority of the time. You gave me a wonderful, luxurious, relaxing and fun weekend! I feel so spoiled and much loved!!! You are truly the best thing to happen to me and I feel lucky that you chose to marry me! I love you, so much!!! Princess: I will never forget your perfect little face as you cheered for me and clapped your little hands. Daddy tells me that you turned on the water works every time you saw me disappeared and I completely broke your heart (and of those around you) when I didn't stop to take a sip of your water bottle. Its those little things that tell me and show me how much you really adore you Mami. Little man: Sorry you weren't able to see me race but I thank you for encouraging throughout training and thinking you had a pretty cool running mom. Your iMessage text, "You were a maze ing" made my day and the perfect ending to my Half-Marathon Weekend! I love you both, you are my life and part of this, I did, so you would be proud of your mom!

Next up...Hubby and I will be training for our first ever full marathon, Disney 2014 here we come! Don't worry friends, this blog has plenty of room for more of my crazy updates, confessions, stories and the such. So, stay tune...I am not done needing your virtual accountability just yet...

Love&Hugs,

Bella

Finally...Back to normal and ready to go!

Oh, friends... what a journey this has been.

For the past several weeks I went from barely being able to move, much less run, to finally feeling like myself again. I had no idea how badly I had damaged my small intestines until I finally got off the gluten and still felt pretty awful. I kept wondering what I was doing wrong, and almost surrendered to going to a doctor. About a week ago I had a total emotional break down and my hubby suggested we try as a last effort to  research the hell out of this god-awful disease and recommended home treatments. After much research (yes, you guessed it, lots and lots of "googling") my hubby and I (mostly my hubby, he's the best, y'all) figured out that when your intestines have been damaged bad enough and for as long as mine had, getting off the gluten just isn't enough. A lot of people, once off gluten, will feel some sort of relief after about seven days. But for those, like me, who moved to a tropical island where it is famous for its amazing bakeries, breads and sandwiches and who just went bread crazy for about a year and a half, simply getting off the gluten most definitely isn't enough. The research we found talked about how abusing your digestive system as bad as I had can lead to other food sensitivities (damn it, there goes the dairy, too...) and problems with nutrient absorption (explains the extreme fatigue and killer migraines, not to mention horrible mood swings and moderate depression...ai yai yai...). ***So, for about the last week I have been on this: 

And this:

So, now I can finally do this:

I can finally say that I am feeling myself again. I wake up feeling like I actually got some rest. The headaches are very few and mild (even after going off of coffee...yes, people, completely cold-turkey), my energy is back and I feel happy and whole. My hubby is super glad too. He says that I am our home's life force and when I feel crappy it throws off our peaceful and fun-loving family dynamic. (Cue in the sad faces...) But, alas... I am back. Its a good thing too because we are....

3 Days: 19 Hours: 42 Minutes and 56 Seconds from RACE DAY!!! OMG!!!

I can feel the nervousness, excitement and anxiousness starting to build up. Ahhhhh! Sooooooooo, excited! This is by far the most physically challenging thing I have ever done and it is finally hitting me how big of a deal this is. The training wasn't always easy and I had to fight through quite a bit of sickness. There was tears, bad attitude and plenty of cursing but there was also lots of laughter and amazing achievements too. And, of course, I can't forget to mention that a friendship was made stronger in the process.  

This week I am taking it very easy, already did a 2 miler with Chica and going to do one more easy run on thursday, a 15-minute fast walk on Friday and then Saturday Chica and I will lounge around the hotel pool all day relaxing and soaking in some Vitamin D. My best friend, Sweet Missy, suggested that I take it easy the week before the race and that is exactly what I am going to do. Can I just tell y'all how thankful I feel for all the gentle and wondeful running advice Sweet Missy gave me??!! 

My hubby and princess will be joining me this weekend and will surely be my biggest cheerleaders. The hubs has promised to take as many pictures as he can (as he juggles our toddler princess and a camera all at the same time...wish him luck, people, he is gonna need it) and I hope to have a great blog post update for you come next week (hopefully, full of awesome pics, too) telling you about my first half-marathon experience. 

Well, sorry to make this short but I am going to go paint my nails and do some beautification stuff so I can look "pretty" for the race. What?! Just cuz I am a runner doesn't mean that I have to look like a bum... right?! (Come on runners everywhere, back me up!)

Love&Hugs,

Bella

***The stuff I talk about on this post and blog, the supplements and things that I have been doing to repair my "gut", are in no way advice to anyone who may be suffering from the same thing. This is simply what I am doing and in no way professional medical advice, so please, if you decide you want to try it too and it goes horrible wrong, don't say I didn't warn you. 

Cheating like a bad, bad boyfriend...

...with bread, lots and lots of bread. 

I know, I know. I imagine that anyone that is a Celiac is just shaking their head right now (fine, okay, judge me, raise your eyebrows and make "pfffft" noises with your mouth...) and wondering why I would be crazy enough to put my body through the agony that comes with ingesting gluten. 

First, let me just give you some background information.  I was officially diagnosed with Celiac Disease back in 2010 but dealt with symptoms for the majority of my young adult life. Celiac disease, simply explained, means that I can not eat any grains containing the protein gluten, and when/if I do, it messes me up real bad. Gluten is the stuff that makes all of the fun stuff like bread, cakes, cookies and brownies, well, basically super great, fluffy and bouncy.  Click this link to learn more: I am curious about Celiacs...! Treatment for this awful and hellish disease, you ask? A lifetime of being Gluten Free (GF). Ugh, I know, absolutely awful, right??!!! You may now come and join me in the pity party I am throwing for myself. GF appetizers, anyone?!

Confession time: I am a Celiac and I cheat all the time. My disease is not as bad as in other people, but I do get the tummy aches and trouble (me and the toilet have gotten pretty "tight", we are mad friends, yo!) and the skin rashes, headaches, cramps and the like, but I have never ended up in the hospital for it. Thank goodness! I think because it has never been really bad, I cheat often and just deal with the symptoms and go on with my life. The problem with this is that somehow my disease gets push back to gonna-pretend-you-don't-exist-land and if I end up abusing my digestive system way too much, my body gets very angry with me and it basically starts shutting down. I am sure, being the smarty-pants readers that you are, you have probably guessed where I am going with all of this chatter. 

I cheat. A lot!

And, now I am suffering.

I am hurting.

And, its all my fault.

I will spare you the super gross details, but I have been feeling really sick. Probably the worse I have ever felt of all the times I have cheated on my disease. My runs (no, not the gross kind, but actual runs that I accomplish with my feet) have been horrific and the recovery has been nightmarish at best. My fatigue is the worse it has ever been and it is really freaking me out being that we are 23 Days: 21 Hours: 32 Minutes and 35 Seconds from the PR Marathon and Half-Marathon event, and I am feeling this way. Three days ago, tried to go on an easy run with the Hubby and ended up quitting after one mile. Can you believe this?!?! I barely survived one mile and in 23 days I am suppose to run a half-marathon. Eeek!

Kinda explains the blog hiatus, right?! Sorry, friends... But, when you feel this crappy the last thing on your mind is using said mind to somehow string together a bunch of words and somehow end up with a post that makes some sort of sense and never forgetting to inject some witty humor, blah, blah, blah... <------ See, what I mean?! My brain is fatigued, too! Don't you just feel just terrible for me? No...you say? Cuz I brought this on myself, right? Yeah, I know... (hangs head in utter shame...) 

There is a running blog that I follow and the author is just a champ, she deals with tons of issues because of her Chron's disease and still manages to write funny and witty blog posts, at times from her hospital bed. Wow! She is kind of my hero! How she does it while being so sick, is beyond me. Anyways, I am not as fabulous as her and thus you have not heard from me in a while. 

For the past several weeks, my body kept giving my the usual signs that it needed a break from all the gluten and being the carb weakling that I am, I didn't listen. Just kept cheating away, happily, like an ignorant fool. Yeesh, makes me want to stand in front of a mirror "pffft" myself! I had no idea how much this would affect my running and as I increased mileage I found myself really struggling with my runs and felt like I was almost killing myself to complete them. Especially my long runs. The soreness and fatigue that followed my long runs have been awful, near debilitating. Last friday, I ran 9 miles. Side note: A huge, enormous shout-out to my best friend, Sweet Missy, for calling me (I texted her while running, no easy feat, and begged her to call me on her way to work) and encouraging me those last 25 minutes. I would not have made it without her. 

I know the following little story will sound very much like a "First World Problem," so just ignore that tiny little part and focus on the real issue, and that is me and my tummy. Okay, moving on with the story, so I get home from my 9-mile run and my hubby suggests we go to the "big city" (San Juan, aka, The Metro) to get our Apple TV fixed at Plaza Las Americas and seeing his desperation, I agreed (he did bribe me with some GF P.F. Changs, how in the world could I say no to that, huh?).  So, after a quick shower and a hearty breakfast, we set off. The drive there and even walking the mall, I felt okay, tired, but okay. We get to the apple store and after waiting forever and finding out that it will be about two weeks to get the equipment fixed (cue the eye rolls), starving we finally headed towards P.F. Changs and while we were walking towards the restaurant I really started to feel like I was going to pass out. As soon as we got there and sat down I got a splitting migraine and got sick in the bathroom (how embarrassing!!!) Our day trip was officially cut short. As soon as the food arrived we asked the waiter to make it to go and quickly headed back home (well, as fast as a two-hour drive can go). I was sick! I felt awful! I knew, I had to make a serious change. 

Jobos Beach, Isabela PR

So, once again, I am on a GF diet lifestyle. It usually takes about one week of absolutely being 100% gluten free to really start feeling better. I am on day #2. I am not completely better but at least I can say I feel better than I did yesterday. Five more days and I should start really getting the pep back in my step. I have been cleansing my body from the awful culprit and trying to get healthy. Resting as much as I force myself to and trying to stay positive. Scouring the internet for GF recipes and already have a GF bread baking in my bread maker. I am realistic enough to admit that I probably won't ever be 100% GF, but I am telling myself that I have to at least try to live a gluten-free life as much as possible. In the end, gluten makes me suffer and damages my body and I should avoid it as much as possible. Punto!

I think I am going to skip my long run this week and just give myself a little bit of time to rest and become brand new again. I can't wait to get back to kicking some serious ass! Next friday, and this is my absolute hope, I will be able to complete my 10-miler and maybe not feel like complete death afterwards. Hoping, wishing, fingers crossed and all that jazz!

So, I have some things to humbly ask of you:

1. After you finish raising your eyebrows and "pffft-ing" me, I ask that you keep me in your positive thoughts as I embark on this dreaded GF life, once again. It's hard as hell, people!
2. That you send healing vibes my way and for my tummy!
3. Lastly, that you wish me luck these next couple of weeks as I continue training for the day that the countdown says: 0 Days:0 Hours:0 Minutes and 0 Seconds!

Thanks, friends, for "listening" to me whine and cry about my tummy troubles. As much as I don't want to, cuz I really do love "talking" to you, I bid you goodbye for now. I am going to get my rest on!!! 

As, always, I leave you with a couple of questions:

What are you experiences with training and living with a chronic disease? How do you stay positive on bad days? 

Love&Hugs,

Bella