Dear Boston: A Love Note from NYC

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Sending up prayers for those who are hurting in Boston. I really have no words right now for yesterday's shameful act of violence towards innocent people. 

Boston, we are behind you!

The Experts Weigh In: Eating for Fuel

BY: MARY DOYLE

I feel like I’m living a double life - a double exercise life. My gym routine and my running routine are at odds with each other. Well, actually, it’s just my gym routine that has beef with my running routine (my running routine is secretly in love with my gym routine because she makes me faster on the pavement). Oh, unrequited love.

For the past 15 months I’ve worked rigorously with a trainer who has a strong belief that high protein and low carbs - paired with heavy weight lifting endurance sets (think Crossfit, Tabata, RFT, AMRAP) - are the key to being in the best shape of your life. Her workouts and methodology helped me shed 10 pounds and 5% body fat in the first 6 months (and maintain it).

For the past 8 months I’ve ALSO been hitting the pavement for long runs, increasing my mileage and building towards a goal. That goal? Running a marathon! During my training, as my weekly mileage increased, so did my carbohydrate intake.

Therein lies my exercise dilemma: carbs are both the key to having the energy to run AND the nemesis to fighting off fat storage.

Before I began training for my first marathon, eating during exercise had never crossed my mind. In fact, during and after workouts, food is the last thing on my mind. I remember orange slices during half time at youth soccer games, but I always thought that was just for extra hydration. The only thing palatable after a workout for me was watermelon or pineapple – or even better, a big glass of water.

But when my casual weekday runs transitioned into training for a marathon, new research and conversations with fellow runners brought the concept of fueling during a run to my attention. It seemed so odd. Here I thought I was simply building endurance to get myself to mile 8, 12, 16….26.2. Come to find out, there’s a whole science behind it. Here’s the breakdown…

Carbohydrates = Sugar

Sugar stored in the body = Glycogen

Glycogen = Energy

Our glycogen levels are what fuels us for our daily activities, especially high-intensity and aerobic training, like running. According to the National Institute for Sports Professionals, an athlete stores about 2 hours worth of glycogen to use for high-intensity training.

For me, this means I can run just under 14 miles on all the glycogen stores in my body. After that, I'm literally running on empty. I'm no 'Boston Qualifier' at this point, so that leaves me nearly 2 more hours of running that I'll have to fuel for while I run. But do I really want to let the tank hit empty before I start refueling? Most definitely not! Especially when precious seconds-per-mile mean the difference between making and missing the goal I've worked towards for months.

I've found that many long distance runners follow the 75 minutes rule. While your body has enough glycogen stores for 2 hours of running, you'll need to have something left in the tank when you hit that 2 hour mark so your system has time to absorb the fuel you provide.

Image via ebay.com

Many products (like energy gu's or gels) say to refuel every 45 minutes of exercise. Much like the chart on the back of your dog's food bag, this is excessive and will leave you with a fat dog and a light wallet. My ultimate goal in refueling is to stay in the positive, but not to carry more than I need. With my frame and pace, I find that 100 calories of carbohydrates (about 25 grams) is sufficient to fuel me for an additional 6 miles after the first 75 minutes. For a marathon, this means taking an Energy Gu at mile 8, mile 14 and mile 20. Any carbs consumed after mile 20 won't be absorbed in time to help me during the race (Vanilla Bean Gu and Strawberry Clif Shot Bloks are my fuel of choice. They work best with my taste buds and sensitive tummy).

With that said, it is a myth that carb loading before a big event is necessary to have the energy you need. Your body only stores so much glycogen, then turns the leftover supply to fat. Unless you just finished a long workout and haven’t eaten anything, you have all the glycogen you need stored in your muscles already.

I struggled to find the delicate balance between having enough carbs (glycogen stores) in my system to be prepared for a race and enough self-control to not load up on more than I needed. I’ve found that eating my normal high protein, low carb diet in the days before a race is sufficient to power me through that first 75 minutes of a challenging run. From there, I must replenish with simple carbs to finish the race feeling strong.

I’ve come to embrace running fuel as that ever-so-rare sweet treat that I need (and work hard for!). It may look like an indulgence, but it’s exactly what my body needs to finish the race strong. Training for my marathon helped me accomplish so many goals – looking and feeling the best that I can, pushing the boundaries of what my body can do, and above all, being the healthiest me that I can be. I was able to do all these things because I put aside the fear of carbs and listened to what my body needed to make my goals a reality.

Sources:

http://www.runnersworld.com/carbs-run

http://www.livestrong.com/article/331651-burning-fat-vs-glycogen/

http://www.runnersworld.com/race-training/lab-report-fuel-management?page=single

Mary Doyle has a few confessions... she brushes her teeth in the shower just to get a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning, she would willingly run a marathon every weekend if you let her (what is she... crazy?) and she's a textbook Gemini - either meticulously counting calories OR shoveling down cupcakes like there's no tomorrow! Mary has a shameless love affair with the great outdoors... she loves hitting the pavement for a run, cruising up and down the beach on her bike or relaxing in the sand with a magazine. Oh... and don't cross her with your bag of potato chips. Mary's biggest pet peeve is (in her own words) "listening to someone eat potato chips. The 'chomp, chomp' is worse than nails on a chalkboard. I don't like the texture of potato chips or the way they stick in my teeth. When hearing this sound, I can feel the texture and grit, and I cringe with disgust and have to leave the room". So basically... don't invite Mary to your next BBQ, but if you're looking for a running buddy, she's definitely down! Oh... and Mary has her own blog called Running and Losing. Check it out and show her some love!


P.S. I am taking submissions for Operation Snail Mail through the end of the day today. Don't miss out on this amazing project! To learn more, click here!

The Experts Weigh In: The Healing Power of Giving

Today my good friend Heather Cooper would like to share a few words about something very close to her heart. 

With no further ado, Heather...

BY: HEATHER COOPER, CONTRIBUTOR

We probably all know someone who's had cancer. Sadly, cancer has left a personal imprint on my heart, as my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer 17 years ago. When she received her diagnosis, she decided to immediately take care of the spot on her breast. At the time, the doctor suggested a lumpectomy because the cancerous spot was very small, but my mother opted for a mastectomy, fearing the cancer would come back down the road. She underwent the procedure and had full confidence that she had rid herself of breast cancer.

Fast forward to last February... my mother was admitted to the hospital after taking a fall. The tumble led to a subdural hematoma (ie. blood in her brain), which triggered seizures. They gave her medication for the seizures and she had an operation for the blood in her brain, but still, she was not getting any better. The doctors decided to do a bone marrow biopsy to see if something else could be going on beneath the surface. To our surprise, they relayed that her breast cancer had come back and was already at Stage 4.

I was shocked and full of emotion. I honestly couldn't believe that it was possible! My mother began treatment for her cancer while in the hospital, but sadly mom passed away this past April, after being in the Intensive Care Unit for almost six weeks. I cannot help but think that she shouldn't have spent the last few weeks of her life this way.

Since she passed, I have a growing desire to make a difference in EVERY area of cancer, especially breast cancer. In October, I participated in the Avon Walk with my sister, and I'm proud to report that we covered 39.2 miles in 2 days. It was such an exhilarating, powerful experience that made us both feel so close to her. Cancer will always connect me to my mother.

For the New Year, I have committed to running the New York Half Marathon on March 17th and have also signed up for the full NYC Marathon next November. I will be running for Fred's Team because they donate 100% of their proceeds to cancer and they allow me to designate which cause the funds go towards.

I am confident that my experience running and training for these races will allow me to feel close to my mom while also knowing that I am making a difference in someone else's life.

I wanted to share my story with you today to raise awareness but also to encourage you to give to a cause that means something to you. The month of February is all about love... it's a great time to consider giving to others!

And it's true, every gift matters - no matter how big or small.

Heather Cooper lives in New York City and works in the big crazy world of Manhattan real estate. Heather was actually MY broker a few years ago and rented me a lovely little apartment on the Upper East Side. She also succeeded in getting me a job. Now that's the kind of broker you want to work with! In her free time, you can find Heather training for the New York Half Marathon and helping others reach their full potential through Landmark Education. She's quite the busy lady!





One last thing... I know there are many of you out there with similar connections to a cause that hits close to home. One of my goals this year is to use my blog for good, and that's where you come in. If you have a story you'd like to share on my blog in an effort to publicize an issue or raise money for a cause, I'd love to give you the opportunity to share your story in my recurring post Highlight on Giving. Just drop me a line at lauren@strictlynutritious.com. 

The Experts Weigh In: Battling With Body Image

BY: MARISSA ROY, CONTRIBUTOR

First of all, let’s be honest – I am no expert. The only thing I could possibly claim expertise for is being way too hard on myself. I am not an expert at navigating life, I am not an expert at work, and I am not an expert at surviving NYC. All I can offer you here is what I have learned over the past ten years - ten years that have left indelible ink on my soul and unforgettable emotions on my heart. Although my past has made me who I am today, shaping me and making me strong, I do not wish my experience on any woman. Unfortunately, I fear it is all too common amongst us these days.

I have no idea exactly when I started looking at myself and thinking I was fat. Actually, I eventually got to a point where I didn’t even need to look at myself to think I was fat; I just felt fat all the time, as it was so deeply ingrained in my mind. I began my freshman year at the University of Georgia like so many other 18-year-old women do – rushing a sorority, decorating my dorm room, rearranging my schedule. Going to UGA was going to change my life – I just knew it! I’d meet new friends, have a boyfriend, go to football games and find my path. Going to UGA did change my life. Although I can now look back fondly on my time there, I know that it was also strewn with hurt, pain, hopelessness and fear…and those feelings were rooted in my own self image.

If you’ve never been down South, you may not relate to me at all. You wouldn’t know that beautiful, thin, blonde girls rule the land, and let me tell you, they are EVERYWHERE. I quickly found that my 5’8” swimmer's build did not fit in down in Athens, Georgia. To this day I remember that shitty fraternity guy who walked by me as I wore 3 inch platform sandals (oh why??) and muttered “that girl is HUGE!”. I mean, what?? I knew I wasn’t huge! I knew I was fit and athletic (with a pension for the new pizza buffet at the dining hall maybe), but I was huge now…was I??

His words began to eat at me as I looked around campus, focusing only on those sorority girls I didn’t fit in with. I started reading Self, Fitness, Women’s Health, magazines I didn’t even pay attention to in high school. I went to the gym every day. I ate broccoli and chicken breasts for dinner. Every. Night. I remember going to bed with my stomach growling but not doing anything about it. I remember sitting in the hallway of my dorm crying my eyes out to my best friend because I had eaten a cookie at dinner and regretted it with every inch of my being. It seemed that overnight I had become obsessed with what I ate, when I ate, how much I ate and, even worse, what everyone else was eating as well.

By the summer after my freshman year I had stopped having a period. I’d lost 10-15 pounds. I'd caught the eye of a hot, older fraternity guy. A guy “friend” told me I was "looking good lately". All of these things made me think skinny = accepted.

That summer I found myself counting out the number of mints I’d eat at my hostess job. I felt guilty for having five after realizing that they had calories in them. I looked at everything for calorie counts. I was a nightmare to go out to eat with, scraping off any mayo, cheese or salad dressing that doused my plate. Sadly, this first year was just the start.

As my years at UGA went by, I continued to lose weight and became freakishly annoying about meals. I’d eat lettuce and tuna for dinner. I’d claim I wasn't feeling well when roommates wanted to go out to eat because I knew I would feel intense guilt for days after indulging in pizza or pasta. I even dated a guy who knew exactly how many calories were in a can of black beans – REAL healthy relationship. I talked about weight, thought about it, couldn’t let go of it. It ruined hours, days and weeks for me. God forbid I actually enjoy some bread and butter out with my family – nope! guilt, blame and fear would follow.

I cannot blame college, however, because unfortunately this behavior continued on throughout my early 20s after graduation and into my post-college life in Atlanta. I couldn’t enjoy eating ice cream on a date because the next day I would beat myself up. ICE CREAM! I would go into the bathroom at work and lift up my shirt to make sure my stomach was still flat. I would cheer myself on while shopping for being able to fit into a size 2 or size 4. Ribs and hip bones that stuck out were signs of strength and fitness. 5:30am wake up calls to get to the gym were regular, although I hated it and dreaded it. 

You know the worst part? These behavior patterns turned me into a person that I really didn't like. I was so caught up in ME that I couldn’t pour into those around me. It was always about how I looked, how I fit in, how I was seen through the eyes of others. I was miserable on the inside, and no matter how I looked on the outside, it would continue. Being skinny did not equal acceptance of myself. 

The funny thing was, I thought I was healthy…boy, was I wrong!

Summer of 2010 I took a new job, a job I never should have accepted, but at that time, I felt it was the best move for me. That job was the beginning of a deep, dark spiral to rock bottom. I was exhausted all the time but couldn't sleep. I was anxious all day and unable to concentrate on work. I didn’t find joy in normal activities. I didn’t want to be around ANYONE. Scared, I went to my doctor, who drew a lot of blood and ran a bunch of tests. The results, in laymans terms... I had NO hormones running through me, my iron levels were cancer-like low and my nutrients were nil. In short – I was the picture of sick. Not only was my body sick, but my mind was also. I sank into a deep, deep depression. I saw no use in moving forward because the future looked nothing short of bleak. I found myself wishing I would get into a horrible car accident because I just wanted a break – a break from life. I was so far gone that my mom feared for my life. She’d sit on the phone with me for hours every day while I cried and said my life was over. She promised me that I was stronger than I knew - that I would get through this and that we would go somewhere amazing when I did.

If I’m honest with myself, this need for 'a break' was a long time in the making. I was tired of trying to be someone I was not. In fact, I was plain exhausted with trying to keep up the appearance of being happy, thin and accepted. At this point, I started making decisions for my best interest. I quit my unhealthy job (step one...check!). Next I went on medication to heal myself from the inside (step two...check!). Finally, I took a job at Whole Foods (step three...check!). That was mid-October. 

By mid-November, it was like life had completely turned around. I was happy. REALLY happy. I know the other side. I’ve lived the other side. That November my mom came into town to celebrate my 26^th birthday. We went to dinner, had champagne and she gave me the gift of a lifetime – two first class tickets to Italy. We were going to Tuscany to bike through the beautiful countryside for six days and seven nights. THIS was proof that I had made it. I had been strong enough to bring myself back to life.

Over the next year I found this life. I gained weight. I ate. I got back to exercising, not because I wanted to lose weight but because it made me happy. I ran a half marathon with a good friend, and then celebrated with wine and cheese. I visited my best friend, Alex, in Colorado, and we went hiking through the Rockies. I got a dream job at Southern Living magazine. And, in September, I went to Italy with my mom.

We ate, drank and biked our way through Tuscany with a group of 12 other divine people. Not a morsel went into my mouth that made me feel guilty. Not a pedal stroke was taken without thinking: 'If this was four years ago, I would've NEVER been able to do this'. I have never felt so close to God as I felt on those dark days…until I was speeding through the hills of Tuscany. He was there, telling me, you DESERVE THIS! You deserve true happiness. You deserve a life not bound by the counting of calories and the guilt of indulgence.

Today, I don’t know why but that guilty feeling is totally gone. Sure, maybe I shouldn’t eat that burger and fries ...AND milkshake, but you know what? I’m DONE with denying myself a full life. I spent so much time (WASTED so much time) worrying that if I wasn’t skinny, I wasn’t good enough. Reading that now just makes me shake my head. Today, I know that who I am is NOT what I eat. Who I am is what I enjoy, who I spend time with and how I treat myself. I cannot wait to take another trip like that one to Italy. It was a cleansing of the mind and the heart…and food for the soul - the wonderful, cheesy, Italian kind.

It's my hope that my daughter will never feel anything less than perfectly accepted by this world. It's my hope that she will never question how thin she is and how society perceives her. 

Acceptance and healing begin when you realize you are worth so much more than the worry, fear and insecurity you choose to carry around. True beauty comes from within. I'm so glad I finally believe that now.

Marissa Roy, a native of Richmond, Virginia, and a proud UGA grad, now lives in the heart of the East village in New York City. When she's not taking the digital advertising world by storm, you can find her at her favorite coffee shop 'The Bean', at the dog park at Tompkins Square Park, biking up the West Side Highway or restaurant hopping and wine drinking (with yours truly!). If you like making 'good time' on road trips, Marissa is NOT your companion of choice. She likes to stop at least once per hour on road trips to stretch her legs and rehydrate (she has to have at least 3 different beverages going at all times while on the road). While it may take double the time to get to your final destination, you're guaranteed to enjoy the ride with Marissa by your side.