This Is Spartan Ultra Episode 2

Short episode wherein I rope a friend into training with me! Lesson: everything is better with friends. And maybe I am a terrible friend for springing sandbags on people.

This Is Spartan Ultra Episode 1

I have started a vlog to document my big goal for 2020: Spartan Ultra! If I talk about it, I will have to do it. That's how you do it, kids: make your goals concrete and broadcast them. I will continue to post updates throughout my training process documenting my mental and physical training and transformation.

Snowshoe You Betta Do

In my ongoing effort to get my lazy ass out the door in the middle of (what feels like) a never-ending winter, I purchased a pair of snowshoes on sale a couple of weeks ago. I figured I would try the activity, and if I hated it, my husband could wear the snowshoes, and if HE hated it, oh well. I took them out for the first time last Thursday to a nearby state park where there were plenty of wooded trails that would have more than enough snow for ya' nerves. Parked, strapped the shoes onto my shoes (a process that was fairly simple, thank goodness), and started plodding along.

I was surprised to find that snowshoeing is not nearly as awkward, physically, as I'd assumed. It seems like you'd be walking like a duck the whole time and would have difficulty with turning and with staying upright and balanced. But it took all of ten seconds to get used to the feeling of the snowshoes. The way they work: they are basically attached to your forefoot. With each step you take, the front of the shoe comes up, and the back of it drags a bit on the ground, which gives you excellent balance. Metal spikes lock you in with each step so that you don't slip. The size of the snowshoe (mine are 8" by 22", and therefore don't have a super high weight limit) prevents you from sinking into the snow. The amount that you sink in will vary from not at all (on hard packed snow) to potentially a few inches (on looser, deeper snow).

Once you get used to the feel of walking in the snowshoes, it is very similar to hiking in slightly muddy terrain, but without the slippage. Each foot placement needs to be fairly deliberate, but you will be very secure. I didn't fall once! Huzzah! After 90 minutes of snowshoeing, my legs didn't feel fatigued at all, but my core was a bit tired.

Today I went out snowshoeing again, this time going a couple miles farther in a little bit more time. I kept a faster pace and was even able to jog a bit. Jogging in snowshoes requires a fair bit of energy, as you don't get any sort of springback from the ground. The snowshoes and snow beneath them totally absorbs all the energy of your impact, and your muscles are totally responsible for lifting you back up. In short, jogging in snowshoes uses a lot of hip flexors, which actually makes it more similar muscle-wise to racewalking than running. Turns out this was right up my alley, but y'all good runners might want to take note.

So if you are looking for a good cross-training winter activity, now is a good time of year to buy on-sale snowshoes. You never know what you can find in the middle of the forest. Garbage? Dead bodies? The sky's the limit, folks!

ReaLitieS of RLS

I am fortunate to have always had good health. I do not suffer from any chronic or mental illnesses. But there is this one thing. I have restless legs syndrome (RLS). Yeah, that "twitchy leg disorder" that many people think sounds either fake or ridiculous. All of the women on my dad's side of the family have it, basically. It's not serious. But it can be disruptive, and it is largely misunderstood. Here is how I experience RLS.

First of all, the sensation itself is, essentially, a physical anxiety. You feel like you need to move, or need to stretch. It can quickly go from being a very mild feeling to being a desperate screaming inside your brain. You NEED to stretch, but even if you fully stretch your limbs (yes, RLS affects both legs and arms), you will wish that you were double-jointed so you could stretch further. It's never enough. At its worst, I have been so uncomfortable and unable to get relief that I've cried, or had a panic attack (thankfully it only got that bad when I was pregnant). Someone sitting directly next to me would be shoved away when my RLS hits. Nobody can be in contact with me during the height of it, because the physical anxiety will agitate me too much. And the physical anxiety can be quite overwhelming and lead to, let's say, "snippiness."

Second, RLS attacks are not entirely predictable. The worst time to get an RLS attack, hands down, is while driving a car (this is a nightmare. I'll be sitting at a red light with my foot on the brake and my brain will start screaming at me to move my leg. Don't worry, I can consciously choose to override the voice, so I am not a road hazard, although it requires much suffering on my part). There are lots of DIY ways to help avoid RLS triggers, namely exercising/stretching a lot and avoiding alcohol and caffeine. I do the former, and don't drink much alcohol (one drink is enough to make my RLS flare up for the rest of the day), and keep caffeine consumption to before 2 PM. RLS is also much more likely to attack at night, while laying in bed. Which is super fun, to be laying there trying to go to sleep when all of a sudden you feel like you can't stretch your elbows far enough to be even slightly comfortable. The one good thing about RLS is that it's not constant. I've gone weeks without attacks. But lately I've been getting them several times a week. Hence: a blog post.

I will say this, though: there are a few pluses to having RLS.

1) I am a GREAT twitcher. My leg can bounce at a fabulous vibrato for hours. This is really handy when you are trying to entertain or burp a baby.
2) The twitching actually can improve your metabolism by burning up to a couple hundred calories a day. It wasn't until recently that I realized how much RLS contributed to my teenage ability to stay skinny despite eating like a horse.
3) People leave you alone when you're yelling "DO NOT TOUCH ME." Introverts like me love that.

So if you have RLS, you aren't alone. If you know someone with RLS, be patient. And DON'T TOUCH THEM!