Chewing the fat

Last week, I weighed in at 139lbs.

The last time I weighed that much I was wearing acid-washed-tapered-with-an-elastic-waist-band-jeans paired with a fluorescent pink ‘Choose Life’ t-shirt, as I stayed up at night hoping Paul Kane would ask me to go see Teen Wolf 2. Oh, and Kirk Cameron was cool.

At least some things never change.

Seriously, when I graduated high school I weighed 168 pounds.  When I ran my first two marathons in 2002/2003 I got down to about 142. You may even recall I couldn’t manage to budge from the 144-150 range while training for my last two races.

So what changed?

Training for the Ottawa Marathon last year, I knew I had to shed pounds to get faster. But no matter how many kilometres I ran, or how hard I rode my Gazelle, I couldn’t get past that 144 mark. So I resigned myself to the idea that I could be marathon-running-fit, but have a belly and “child-bearing” thighs. Because that’s just how I was made, right?

But when I finished the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Half-Marathon in September something just clicked. It was sort of: “Holy f-bomb, if I can run a 1:51 half with an extra 17 pounds, how much faster could I run without it?”. According to this article almost 40 seconds per mile faster.

Enter bad-ass nutritionist Claudia Hutchinson (actually, I’m told her ass is quite nice). Claudia has several Ironman (triathlons, not actual men) and Masters world championships under her belt.

Goodbye processed sugars, farewell dear Twizzelator, auf wiedersehen Philly cheese-steak pizza, goodnight mint chocolate chip ice cream.  Hello increased veggie intake and cup-an-hour water.

I now pee pure V8.

Wow, what a difference! Within days, I was less fatigued, less hungry, less horizontally challenged.

Turns out white flour and sweets aren’t a runner’s best friend.

Today, I’m eight pounds down with nine to go – and I’ll admit I haven’t totally converted to this new lifestyle. For the past week I’ve been getting up hourly to sick kids, and the temptation to go back to my old eating habits is huge. Now Christmas is creeping up on me visions of red wine and little hot dogs wrapped in puff pastry are dancing in my head. But if I keep this up, I know I’ll see the difference on the stopwatch.  It does have me wondering though, how does Santa pull such amazing splits on Christmas Eve? I mean, that guy’s belt is under some serious pressure, but he loops the globe in less than a night.

Must be his magic sack.  Wish I had one.