I've been considering going to see a sports nutritionist. Not because I don't know how much water I should be drinking per day, or how many grams of carbs and protein I need, because I already know a TON about nutrition. So does Sean.

But I'm a terrible judge of my own character. This has been a problem that has plagued me since I started running 3 years ago. I never feel like I'm challenging myself enough. So I run. Hard. But eventually, as we all know, if you don't take the rest days at least once and awhile, you get burnt out. And then I justify that since I work 70-80 hours/week, I'm entitled to take it slow in my training and work up to whatever my goal is. But then I feel unfulfilled. I feel lazy and weak. I picture myself being compared to a single parent who works even more than I do and can run a 2:50:00 marathon(I don't have any examples of this person, but I know he or she is out there). And then I add more miles to my training plan and don't take a day off for 2 weeks.

Rinse and repeat.

And in comes a new problem: my weight. Not out of vanity or anything, but it's a proven fact that you run faster when you have less weight to carry. And duh, I want to run fast. (I italicized the word 'fast' so you'd really understand how zippy I want to be) I want to qualify for Boston by 2010. I then want to move up to ultra marathons and complete the Spartathlon before I'm 30. After that? Who knows! I'm like a little kid. I dream big.

While I've somewhat been able to control my inner demon about training, my inner food demon is a lot more difficult to control. See, he's been there for awhile. He knows me too well. And he knows I know, so he's thinking 3 steps ahead of me. Kind of like a ninja. Or a Special Ops Delta force member.

So, I wanted to see a nutritionist so I could healthily lose weight, find out where the pitfalls in my diet are, and anything else that I might just need to fine tune.

But I've talked to a few people about this; a cyclist and runner, a sports therapy student, and a few friends who have had the same issues with food that I've had in the past, and I really can't get a straight answer. It seems like no one really cares about nutritionists one way or another. Everyone has given me a shrug of their shoulders and said, 'If you think it will help, go for it.'

This is another problem with another inner demon of mine. I don't trust myself too often. This isn't to say that I'm not stubborn beyond believe when I feel a certain way about something, but when it comes to something new I always need a ton of opinions about everything. I think this is why I was considering becoming a lawyer for awhile. You can't defend someone because you think they're innocent(or guilty). Nothing like that holds up. You need facts, expert opinions, documents and evidence. It takes me awhile to start up something new because I have to do my research on it. I have to decided if it's worth my time and investment. I don't go into projects blind and not having a set path. If I ever do anything sporadic, it's because I don't have something that I've already planned out, or the reward/consequence of doing said sporadic thing won't affect me one way or another. Heck, I usually can't even buy a CD without wondering if I could use that $12.95 in some better way.

So with everyone's opinion being totally unhelpful, I think I've decided to not see a sports nutritionist for now. What I'm going to do is keep a food journal, keep track of everything I eat (I've done this before, but actually seeing the calories written down kind of freaked me out), then sit down with Sean and have him help me with my problem spots and see where I can improve.

Also, I am capable of making an executive decision on some levels.

I will not be eating Chinese food again. It does not make Lizzy a happy panda. In fact, it makes her rather smelly the next day.

I've signed up for my first spring race. My first race in over 6 months. Ouch, I didn't realize how long it's been, and how out of shape I've become. Last winter, when I was training(I'm using that term VERY loosely) to run(i.e. practically walk) the P.F. Chang's Marathon, I blamed everything on work and home. My main job had me working extreme amounts of overtime, without getting paid for it. For about a month I was working overnight at the office, then catching a cab home to take a shower and a quick nap before I came back to the office to do it over again. Rinse and repeat. Did I mention during that month my cigarette habit must have gone from 5-7 cigarettes a day to almost a pack? Did I also mention that I was training for a MARATHON? This was stupid on so many levels, I'm ashamed to talk about it.

That marathon was hell. I hated every moment of it. I hated my 5:50:41 finish time (my first marathon [which was also my first race ever] I finished in 4:27:32). So to have a finish like that was just embarrassing for me. I am embarrassed because I couldn't blame anyone for my shitty finishing time. I had done it all to myself. I had skipped my long runs with TNT, time I could have spent training or sleeping or whatever were dedicated to working those overtime hours without pay, and I was smoking and drinking like a teenager who had just found Dad's Marlborough lights and Mom's secret liquor stash. I've never been one to deal with stress in a healthy or even normal fashion, and last winter was certainly no exception.

Sure, I could blame my horrible mental state on everything else that was going on in my life. I was giving my time and my sleep to this company who had completely fucked me over, my second job was punishing me for showing up late to a few shifts because of my other job, and to top it off, my husband didn't have a job. So I was the soul breadwinner, and after 18 or 22 hour days, I'd come home to a messy, foodless house and I then expected myself to go out and RUN 6 or 8 miles? The idea was laughable. Any time I found myself with free time I either fell asleep, or went out on my porch to call my parents or friends and smoked and got wasted as fast as possible.

In short, I was a fucking wreck.

I was nearing the end of my training when I met Claire. This girl is my own personal guru. She works at my office and was there the whole time during the project from hell. She was working almost as much as I was, but yet she was able to constantly be training and running and cycling. Personally, I thought she was amazing and someone I wanted to but could never be, because I couldn't seem to get my act in order.

We take the same train into work. I didn't know this until she and I bumped into each other on the way in. I was smoking. At that time, I didn't know how many events she had done, but I knew she was hardcore. Anyway, she asked me how training was going and I think I looked at her like she was crazy. Here I am, smoking, and she's asking me how my training's going? Is she serious?

"Well, considering how much time I spend here, not very well," I said. Then, acknowledging my cigarette, "You must think I'm so stupid for smoking while training for a marathon."
"No." She said flatly. "I used to drink and smoke when I trained too. I get it. I mean, it's not good for you, but right now, what you're doing, is stressful."

And she left it at that. Since I already felt like a dumb ass for ruining my training, it was nice not to have an athlete talk to me without judgment. Maybe she was secretly judging me, but I didn't notice(and I doubt it).

The day before the marathon, my friend Kelly arrived in Phoenix to meet me. I was still so stressed out and so excited to just get away from all the shit that was happening in Boston, I begged her to drive me to a CVS to pick up some cigarettes. I must have smoked a pack of cigarettes that day. If I had the opportunity, I probably would have smoked one or two before the race at 4:30am.

But, it's been a year since that horrible project, and I think I'm finally getting my shit together again. I haven't had a cigarette in a month, and to be honest, I don't crave it all that much. Only when I'm really really stressed out about something do I even consider asking someone for a cigarette. I've been cutting down my drinking too. I don't go out to drink, and besides getting laid off last month (and an embarrassing scotch incident with my family), I haven't had a drink in awhile. My training is improving, and although my pace is still painfully slow, I know it will improve. If 4 years ago I went from never running before, to being 45 minutes off a Boston marathon qualifying time; then I should be able to bounce back from all these unhealthy choices I've been making the past few years.

So, in sigining up for the Fells Trail Race, a tough as nails trail race which gains and looses 100 feet per mile and I've been told that it's difficulty cannot be overstated. It's an 8 mile race which I might actually come in dead last. My friend Wes, who tried desperately hard to get me to join the Cross Country team when I was a freshman in college, told me that I will *never* come in first or last in a race. I might just prove him wrong with this race because there's probably only going to be about 50 people participating. I told Caire about this race. She's done it twice.

This time, she told me I was crazy.

Well deserved.