Good News/Bad News
You know what is the best thing ever? Starting a new workout plan that insists that on the first day, you rest. That was my yesterday. I walked around, shooting my mouth off about how "I'm on Day One of my new training program, yes, that's right, I'm going to run a half-marathon."
Day One = REST. Totally awesome.
Today, however, was Day Two. The task - run 1.5 miles.
In all my bragging yesterday, my friend Kim (Yes, Dog-Crap Analogy Kim) caught wind of what I'm up to, and insisted that she, too, is going to run a half-marathon. Well. That girl is always one-upping me. First the monkey bars, and NOW the half-marathon?
Actually, we decided to meet and run laps around the park while our two youngest played. We figured out that we needed to run around the park path 6 times to get our distance. It would be an exercise and play-date! Lookie at us multitaskers!
We decided to drive to the park, because we figured we wouldn't want to walk home after. This was a good call - but not because we were too tired. See, no one asked the toddlers what they would enjoy doing on a lovely Tuesday morning. My youngest was okay with it. Sort-of. Kim's son barricaded himself in the van, and refused to come out and play.
With some slight of hand, and a well-timed grab, we got him out, and brought him to the picnic bench. Then we did some pathetic, self-conscious stretches, and I took off for my first few laps. After the first lap, my three-year-old joined in. She trotted just ahead of me, setting a good pace, and yelled encouragement back to me.
"Come on, Mommy! You can do it!"
I puffed back to the picnic bench after three laps, and Kim did her first three looking like a champ. The kids and I stood along the walk and cheered for her as she cruised into lap three. My daughter joined Kim on one of her laps, too. Who needs a personal trainer? My three-year-old is totally up for the job.
I had a solid fourth lap, and then my shins started to ache. Knowing that I had horseback riding lessons in an hour, and I would be needing my legs, I used that as a lame (I know, it was lame) excuse not to finish my last two laps. While I did some more awkward and self-conscious stretching, Kim trotted around the park three more times. She kicked my hiney, man. Again.
While Kim made her way around the path, I corralled the two little monsters into my van for a private viewing of SpongeBob on our portable DVD player. You know, I used to scoff at the moms with the DVD players in the car. That's why it has windows, I said. Kids get too much TV already, they don't need no stinkin' movies in the car, too, said I. Then we got one for our upcoming trip and I owe lots of moms a big apology and maybe a gift certificate to NetFlix. Best. Invention. Ever. EVER.
Oh! And in further Kim News - she witnessed me making it all the way across the monkey bars at the school! I did it! I did it! My arms didn't fall off! Want to know the secret?
Here it is: If you hang 179 pounds of woman off of two stumpy, non-callused hands, you are not going to be able to do it. You can't just hang. You have to start off swinging.
So, Kim and I will meet again for a rematch on Thursday. We've got two toddlers, six laps, and bragging rights riding on the outcome. Provided we can even walk on Thursday. Heh.
I'm also down one pound to 178. This is tedious - but I think I know what the problem is.
Ready for the bad news?
I haven't been eating hardly anything. I haven't been cooking hardly anything. I knew when I decided to take on Fat Fallacy as my lifestyle guide, I would have a hard time with scheduling. But this last week and a half has kicked my sore buttocks all over the place.
I won't eat unless I'm able to sit down and appreciate the food I'm eating. I won't eat in the car, nor in front of the computer. Not in front of the TV either. I need about 30 minutes, three times a day, just for eating. And I'm not finding it.
With the last week of school festivities in full swing, I've been galloping from one place to the next, leaving the house before 8 am and often not returning until after 5 pm. I'm attending field trips, driving from school to stable to store to school again with no pitstops at home. I've skipped breakfast AND lunch for the last four days. This has resulted in really low energy and no interest in cooking a real dinner. Add in the fact that my husband is on a business trip, and I'm preparing for a week-long vacation with the three kids and a cross-country flight, and you've got a recipe for diet disaster.
Tonight, I ate a Happy Meal. It was gross.
I'm thinking at bare minimum, I need to eat a protein rich breakfast. I hate to shovel the food in, but this wishful thinking that my schedule is going to miraculously allow me time to eat, while contemplating the texture and aroma of each bite, is delusional. Especially this week, when all the planets have aligned, keeping me from having any free time.
I'm not allowing my body to get the nutrients it needs, and it's affecting my potential weight loss. I need to find the time to eat. I need to slow down.
I have this weird, illogical perfectionism streak. It tells me that I shouldn't take up exercise if I can't do it right. It tells me that I know the "right way" to eat now, and by golly, I'm going to do it that way. I'm not giving myself the space to be flexible. I mean, I know I don't want to mindlessly eat in the car, or shovel handfuls of cereal straight from the pantry, but to forgo eating because I can't do it "right" is crazy. But that's what I've been doing. And it isn't working out.
Balance. I'm seeking balance.
