Panicky.

I likely won't get to run today.

We're going to Houston for the day -- going to hit up the Natural Science and History Museum, let the kids ice-skate at the Galleria, etc.

Intellectually, I know that skipping today isn't going to hurt me. It's not like I'm going to gain back all 38 pounds today. I ran 7 miles last night. I've lost another pound as of this morning. I plan on eating as reasonably as I can. We'll be walking quite a bit. I'm going to do some shopping!

It's going to be OK.

But somewhere, deep inside, I feel panicky about it. I need to run. What am I going to do if we don't get back early enough for me to get a few miles in?

It's an irrational fear, sort of like whenever I go on a business trip and worry obsessively about my children while I'm gone. I know I've left them in the best care possible -- their father and their grandparents -- BUT.

As Pee Wee Herman said, "Everybody's got a big but." (I, unfortunately, have two.)

I've put off having a set "off" day from running, despite all the books, magazines and people telling me I need to have one. If I don't run one day, it makes it that much easier not to run the next or the next. If I can skip a day of running because we're taking a day trip, then why can't I skip a day because I'm just damned tired?

It's a slippery slope.