Dear World:

Would you like to know what I've had to eat today?

For breakfast, I had overnight oats, as described in my post from two days ago, along with half a banana cut up and a dollop of dark chocolate peanut butter. I had a cup of coffee.

I got to work at 7:40 a.m. Around 9:15 a.m., I had a Bobo's Oatmeal Bar, a vegan, natural energy bar. My training session starts at 11:15 a.m., so I wanted to make sure I had enough fuel.

For lunch, I had a to-go salad bar from Jason's Deli. Besides a lettuce mix, I had yellow and red bell pepper rings, olives, mushrooms, carrots, tomatoes, broccoli, a little cheese, some croutons, a sprinkle of olive oil and some balsamic vinegar. I also had a side of roasted red pepper hummus and six whole-wheat crackers. I had the other half of my morning banana.

I had a large Coke Zero. I drank another cup of coffee and so far, I've had more than 100 ounces of water.

For supper, we're having leftovers -- last night, we had chicken fajitas. I had two low-fat tortillas smeared with homemade guacamole, slices of red, green and yellow bell peppers, onions and a little cheese. I had the same this evening, only I just had one tortilla.

My point? I AM EATING. I am eating three meals a day and at least one snack.

But I appreciate your concern.

---

Training session today was brutal. I was so embarrassed by my lack of arm strength. I kept on trying, though. I don't want my trainer to think that I'm not taking this seriously or that I'm not trying.

I do feel more energetic; my six-mile run this evening was a little faster, a little peppier.

Knee status: One is still way gross. The other is getting better. I'm still searching my closet for dresses with longer hems to wear, but I think I'm almost home-free.

Week in Review.

I ran 8 miles yesterday, for a total of 42 last week. That's with skinned knees, y'all!

I successfully ate vegetarian all week long. It wasn't even an issue.

I lost another pound. I went down two sizes in pants.

I survived two days with my personal trainer, although my thighs are still screaming (it may be the 18 miles total that I ran in the span of about 15 hours).

This week is going to be even better!

Change.

I had Overnight Oats for breakfast this morning. Basically, you take equal amounts of rolled oats, some sort of dairy/soy liquid and yogurt, put it in a bowl and let it sit overnight in the fridge. Take it out in the morning, let it come to room temperature, and add stuff to it. I used oats + vanilla soymilk + Greek yogurt, then added two strawberries and a dollop of dark chocolate peanut butter this morning.

It was good, but beyond my comfort zone of my usual half a whole-wheat muffin with a tablespoon of fat-free cream cheese. My trainer wants me to eat oatmeal, though, so there it is. It does provide me with a good amount of protein, and that's good.

Tomorrow marks a week since I have gone strictly vegetarian. It has been amazingly easy, and I feel great. Again, my life was already pretty much set up to go veg, so making the final commitment wasn't that difficult. I had my usual breakfast and coffee. Lunch was lentil chili from home, rice, beans and vegetables, or some amazing spinach and cheese quesadillas. At home, I ate more lentils or a salad or even the awesome mustard, cheese, tomato and spinach sandwich.

I've lost another pound, too.

---

I ran my long run last night -- 10 miles in our neighborhood. I got my Garmin Forerunner 405 on Wednesday, so today I'm going to use it to run outside the neighborhood. I'm going to keep the run to 5 miles or so while I familiarize myself with a route outside my norm. I'm excited about this; trust me, running around your neighborhood TWENTY times is not fun.

The Gusher 5K, Half-Marathon and Marathon is in two weeks. Next weekend, I plan to head out to the hike and bike trail and get in 12 miles, then I'll run some -- but not as much as usual -- the week of the race. The thought of that is already making me nervous.

Lunges, they are of the devil.

When I told my co-worker Melanie that I was going to get a personal trainer, lunges were the first thing she mentioned.

And not in a good way. As I do with all information, I tucked it away for when I needed it.

Wednesday when I saw my trainer, we worked on lower body. He told me that he wasn't going to do a lot for my lower body, because it's already pretty strong. I smugly agreed, and we got to it. We did some leg presses and some squats, and then we did some lunges.

I did two sets total, going up and down about 10 feet on the gym floor, on the first day after I skinned my knees. It was no big deal. I'm thinking, "These aren't bad! Maybe it's because I already run so much or something."

Then yesterday happened.

And last night.

And TODAY.

My thighs and rear end hurt so badly that I hesitate before I sit, gathering up the courage to deal with the pain.

This is SERIOUS PAIN.

(And people, I delivered one of my babies AFTER the epidural had worn off, so I know pain.)

My run was off last night because I was having to push through soreness and pain. My trainer set my schedule up for Mondays and Wednesdays, precisely so I would be fresh for my Friday/Saturday long runs. I hope I'm ready for tomorrow.

I hope my THIGHS are ready for tomorrow.

Out of Proportion.

Once you start trying to eat right and be healthier, you notice all kinds of things. Calorie counts and chemicals in your foods, for one thing.

Another thing would be serving sizes in restaurants. The past two days, I've eaten in restaurants and received servings that were easily double, triple or quadruple the amount a person should eat.

On Tuesday, I ordered spinach and mushroom quesadillas at a Tex-Mex place. What I got were two plate-sized tortillas, all buttery and filled with spinach, mushroom and cheese. It was cut into eight or nine slices.

Don't get me wrong; it was EXCELLENT and I'm planning on making a lower-fat version for myself at home next week, but does *anyone* really need that many quesadillas?

I ate two and asked for a to-go box for two more. When I got back to work, I had second thoughts about eating them again (they're OK for once every few weeks) and tossed the to-go box. Too dangerous.

Yesterday, I had a busy morning and when it was lunchtime, I was near a build-your-own burrito/taco/quesadilla/burrito bowl place. So I decided to get a bowl. I asked for brown rice, black beans, tomatoes, guacamole and "a little" cheese.

The amounts put in that bowl would have easily fed two adults. I ate a third of what was in the bowl and tossed the rest.

But here's the deal: I'm motivated right now. Catch me 9 months ago and I would have eaten the entire thing. The typical person is going to sit down, start talking to friends, start eating and eat the entire thing.

I know. People should be able to take care of themselves. Restaurants shouldn't have to police them. I know. But why tempt them? Why do that to your customers? Why not just do the right thing?

The vegetarian thing is going well. I have eaten some cheese and dairy, but that's OK. I planned to keep to that. I'm full and really don't even want meat. Last night, I had a sandwich made of whole-wheat bread, grainy mustard, a slice of Provolone cheese, two slices of tomato and a handful of baby spinach. It was *so* good. I can't wait to have it again, and add a slice of avocado to the mix.

---

My knees were gross and disgusting and ugly yesterday, but I lived. I explained what happened to my trainer, but we went on as planned.

We worked on my legs yesterday, and as he expected, I have strong legs. But there's absolutely nothing wrong with making them stronger -- I have sore butt muscles today from lunges.

I ran, but only four miles and pretty slowly. I was jittery because I was afraid I'd fall again. But it went OK. Tonight, I'll be back up to my six.

On my lunch hour, I bought a pair of pants so I'm OK for today and then tomorrow I'll wear blue jeans. By Monday, I think my knees will have healed enough so that I can go back to my skirts.

I hope so anyway...

Fall forward, spring back...

A few days after we got home from our honeymoon, I fell down the stairs outside our apartment. Just a couple of stairs, but I skinned my knee pretty badly.

When I was 11 weeks pregnant with Katie, I tripped over a mat at the Mall and fell, skinning my knees.

When I was in grad school, I tripped one night leaving a friend's house and busted up my knee really badly. I probably should have gone to the doctor, but I didn't.

And so on and so forth. I've probably fallen and skinned my knees 30 times in the past 16 years. So it was inevitable that one night, while running, I'd fall.

That was tonight.

I had completed one lap; I was feeling great, thinking about what I was going to wear tomorrow, what I was going to do tomorrow. I tripped over this bump in the street. I've almost tripped over it a couple of times before, but I caught myself. Not this time.

I walked back to the house to clean myself up and bandage my knees.

And then I went back out to run.

Russ thought I was crazy, and he might be right. But I wanted to get back out there. I wanted to test my knees to make sure it wasn't anything more. I wanted to run.

Everything felt great, but one of my knees -- the one that's taken a beating over the years -- was bleeding pretty badly, so I stopped after two miles and went into the house. I went to Wal-Mart to buy big Band-Aids.

Once I showered and everything, one knee isn't that bad, but the other one is pretty awful. I'm going to run tomorrow night -- my usual Wesnesday-night five miles.

My only problem is what am I going to wear while my knees are gross and messy? I don't like to wear blue jeans during the week, and I don't have any nice pants that fit me still. My skirts and dresses will show my Band-Aid-covered knees.

So there it is. I'm a klutz. A klutz who's still hell-bent on running, but a klutz nevertheless.

The Girl Who Lived.

I survived the training session today. It was actually kind of fun.

My trainer runs, too, although not the mileage that I do, so it was nice to talk running with him. I offered some advice and he gave me some, too.

It wasn't easy, though. I did two reps of 15 each on two different upper-body weight machines, and then I ran five minutes on the treadmill, at an incline of 4 and a pace of 5.2. The two more upper-body machines and then back to treadmill. We did this for 45 minutes, total.

My arms were shaking when we were done, but I felt triumphant. I did it! I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to keep up. I was afraid that I'd embarrass myself.

I didn't, though.

---

My trainer is still concerned about my eating habits, though. He questioned me very carefully about what I had eaten the day before and what I was going to eat the rest of the day.

I'm doing OK, though. I have no problem with eating real food; I want to make every bite count.

Today for lunch, I had lentil chili. It was excellent, filling and protein-filled! I made it through the evening and through my 6-mile run with no hunger pains. :-)

Talismans.

Yesterday, I went to Target as is my usual Sunday routine (Target, HEB, ATM, home).

I was looking through their clothes, and picked a skirt up to look at it further, and thought, "Wow. That skirt is HUGE."

It was a size 12, the size I used to wear. The size I was almost too big for when I decided to take action.

I still have all my big clothes. I know I need to give them away. I don't have a huge closet, and I could use those clothes hangers, and someone else could use the clothes.

But still I keep them. It's kind of like whistling in the dark, or actually more like keeping all that old baby stuff that you're never going to use again, but you heard about a lady who got rid of all her baby stuff and got pregnant the next day.

In my mind, those bigger clothes are talismans, a defense against my gaining the weight back. As long as I have them, I won't need them. As long as I can pull them out, try them on and laugh as they sag totally off my body, I won't gain the weight.

Right?

Intellectually, I know those clothes aren't keeping the weight off. The only person/thing that can do that is ME.

I just have to trust in ME.

---

Personal trainer today. Will report back this evening, if I can move. :-)

New wrinkle and other things.

I have always felt like *my* body runs better, more efficiently, on fruits and vegetables.

Maybe yours doesn't, and that's OK.

So last week, I decided to start eating primarily vegetarian. I want to optimize my body to make it perfect for running. I've enlisted the help of a trainer to build muscle, and now I'm going to turn to fruits and vegetables for the best fuel.

That's one reason. The second reason is that I am appalled at the treatment of animals who are designated for slaughter. Their treatment while living and in their moments of dying is shameful. I don't like the idea that animals are puffed up with antibiotics and other medications in order to make them the fattest possible so more meat can be gained. Those antibiotics are passed along to us. I don't want to participate in that. And while I know that my statement won't bring the meat industry to its knees and it won't make them treat their animals better, at least *I* won't be part of the problem.

I am confused about the labeling of meats -- organic and cage-free and range-free and all of that. I know that just because it's on the label doesn't mean it's so. But I'm going to try to educate myself better about those terms and buy the best quality I can for my family, who will continue to eat meat (see below).

It's not that huge of a change, really. I already eat a primarily vegetarian diet; most of the time I don't eat any meat at all until my evening meal, anyway. So I'm just making it official with some caveats (of course):

1. I am a VEGETARIAN. That's different from VEGAN. I will likely have dairy (cheese, my precious cheese!) and even eggs from time to time. Right now, I don't partake of either of those on a daily basis, and that's how I'm going to continue on.
2. My kids and husband will continue to eat as they always have. If one of my children decides to follow me, then that's fine, but I'm not going to insist upon it. They are their own people and it's totally up to them. That's how we've treated them since birth and that's how we will continue to treat them.
3. I am doing this for ethical reasons, but I'm also new to this vegetarian thing. So I might mess up at times. If you see me eating something that isn't vegetarian, don't judge. Don't laugh. I'm don't foresee myself sitting down to a big slab of steak, but I may be eating refried beans that have some animal fat in them.

I'm trying to make a difference.

This information threw my trainer for a loop, because the meal plan he had put together for me looked like this:

Breakfast: PROTEIN

Lunch: PROTEIN

Supper: PROTEIN

He was assuming animal-based proteins, and not plant-based ones. So he's going to retool his plan, and we'll revisit that on Monday. I am proving to be a big challenge for him, in a good way, because of the vegetarian thing and because I already exercise so much. I'll be eating a crapload of pasta and beans, basically. Oh, and brown rice! I love brown rice!

A woman my size only needs about 40 grams of protein a day. There can be 40 to 60 grams of protein in a steak alone!

So there it is. That's my new thing. I don't think it's going to be very difficult to do, since I'm already following it to a certain extent anyway. I already adapt our evening meals for me -- I eat mainly vegetables with a tiny bit of meat. Now I'm just taking away the meat portion.

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My 16th wedding anniversary is March 11. I am NEVER able to surprise Russ. EVER. I think the last time I gave him a gift that was a surprise was back when we were still dating and I got him the entire Ken Burns "Baseball" documentary on video tape.

I had planned to buy him a new Zune for Valentine's Day to replace the one that was stolen. Then one day, a few weeks ago, he said, "I decided to go ahead and order a new Zune. I'm lost without mine."

Ugh.

I decided a few days ago that I was going to get him a bigger computer monitor. He's been looking at them when we go to Best Buy and when we were in Houston a few weeks ago, so I knew he wanted one.

I just wasn't sure how to do it. I wanted to get him a good one and one that he wanted, but how without him knowing? I pondered asking some of the tech people at work, or making a cheesy gift certificate so he could pick it out or buying him a gift card in the amount...

So I was turning that around in my head, when I walked in from errands yesterday to see him looking at a computer monitor from Newegg.com. I said, "Let me guess. You sensed that I was going to get you a new computer monitor for our anniversary, so you decided to go ahead and order you one before I could surprise you with it."

That wasn't the case; he was just looking. But we ended up ordering that computer monitor and my anniversary/birthday gift at the same time: a Garmin Forerunner 405 GPS thingie that goes on your wrist.

I am so pumped about this! One of my big things about running is keeping track of mileage. This little number will do that without my having to use a lot of brain power thinking! I can run all over the place, confident that it will keep track of my mileage!

Speaking of which, I ran 40 miles last week. I plan to top that this week!

Abject terror.

I met with the personal trainer yesterday afternoon.

He's a very nice person and I have no doubt that he knows his stuff. But, still I am terrified.

My diet will be a bit different than what I'm used to -- in order to build muscle, I need more protein -- and I'm afraid I'll gain weight. If I gain muscle and not fat (i.e., can still fit into my clothes with no problems), then I'm OK with that.

I like routine. I like knowing what I'm going to do every day, knowing what I'm going to eat, etc. This trainer is new. His workout routine is new. Once I get through a week, I think I'll be OK, but right now, thinking about it makes me so freaking nervous.

I signed up for a just a month. At the end of the month, I can stop the personal training and continue with his program on my own, or I can sign up for another month or I can stop and go back to what I'm doing now.

And yes, one of the first things he told me was that I was going to have to stop running for a while. I told him that was not possible, wasn't even an option. I need running. NEED IT.

So he said it would be OK, just as long as I wasn't running 10 miles a day. I explained to him my running schedule and he was OK with that. Good. Because I'm NOT going to stop running.

---

I had a long week. Longer than normal. Not sure exactly why.

Kid A had a birthday party yesterday evening and Kid B had make-up dance classes yesterday evening, so it was after 7 before we headed out for our typical Friday-night dinner and errands.

We went to eat. We went to Target. I was exhausted. I was freezing.

I forced myself to put on my running stuff, telling myself that I'd just run 4 miles or so. I've run every single day this week (yay good weather!), so if I just run 4 that's perfectly OK.

I ended up running EIGHT. I'm not sure what came over me. I just started running and didn't stop. I probably would have gone farther, but the fog was starting to come in and I was getting creeped out. I felt great, wasn't cold, and my mood improved 110 percent!

So, in case I haven't hammered this point home enough: Running will cure what ails you, no matter what it is!

Confession.

I didn't go to the gym yesterday.

I had a lot of meetings and things I had to do at work, and then I had errands that HAD to be done during my lunch hour.

So no gym.

I am meeting with a personal trainer today, though. This first meeting is just a consultation so he can find out exactly what I want and talk with me about his expectations. I'm just going to do a few sessions -- just enough to get me on a routine that will build up my strength the right way.

I do expect him to have an issue with how much I run, but that is a non-negotiable. I have to run every single day. It's like medicine to me, medicine that I desperately NEED so that I do not lose my mind.

So hopefully he will understand that need.

---

This is what running can do:

Last night, I supervised Katie's homework. Usually she does her homework at my in-laws' house, but on Thursdays, she has dance starting at 4 p.m., so no time for homework. So she does it afterward.

It's not a lot of work -- usually just two sheets -- but the girl drags it out painfully.

She finally finished around 7:30 p.m. or so and I was looking over it. That's when I saw that my daughter's teacher had sent home a worksheet about the presidents that said that Ronald Reagan was our current president.

Oh, and we only have had 40 presidents.

My level of outrage was incredibly high. I am hyper-vigilant about what my kids learn in school. Russ and I both want them to learn to THINK FOR THEMSELVES, and not just spew facts and figures. But I also want them armed with the correct information.

This was not.

I was ready to storm the administration building, call the principal, the superintendent and basically go off on everyone associated with the elementary school.

But before I did all that, I decided to run.

I ran five miles, and when I got back in the house, I was calm. I was rational. I was reasonable.

I did not, dear readers, storm the administration building. I did not call the principal or the superintendent. I did write a carefully-worded note to the teacher questioning the educational value of a worksheet with two incorrect statements.

Don't get me wrong; I'm still pretty upset about the whole thing. But the run focused my energies on doing the appropriate thing. Sometimes people get upset and their rage fuels the situation rather than corrects it. I just want this corrected, i.e., throw away the damn worksheet.

Don't underestimate the value of something that can take you from red alert to calm and reasonable.

Busted.

Even when I'm overweight, I'm a pretty petite person. I have a smaller bone frame, smaller features, etc. (except for my butt -- it's always huge).

So the last time around, when I lost a lot of weight, I went from being a normal-sized person in the chest area to being as flat as a pancake. Seriously.

(And it's happened again. I've said it once before: It's like my body knows that as a runner, I really don't need excess weight up top, so it dumps it as soon as I put on my running shoes.)

It shocked me and once when I was whining to my BFF about it, she said, "Well, people your size don't have big boobs!"

"But <insert name of famous actress who is TINY but with HUGE boobs> does. And so does <insert another name of famous actress who is TEENSY but HUGE>. Why don't I?" I whined.

"Beth," she said. "Those aren't real. They're FAKE."

And I had yet another lightbulb moment. Intellectually, I knew that, but when it was happening to my own body, I couldn't see it. And I was 34 years old.

So yesterday I came home to the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.

A caveat:

Even as a feminist, I truly don't have a problem with SI (or any other magazine similar or raunchier). If a woman can make money that way, then more power to her! If *I* could make money that way, I'd certainly do it.

Unfortunately, the market for 38-year-old women in swimsuits who have had two children (and the stretch marks to prove it), have really short hair, and have had wild fluctuations in weight is not that big. Shocking, I know.

So I don't object to this magazine or others on that particular issue. I just object to it because it paints such an unrealistic picture of how women *should* look.

I looked through the magazine (and felt positively HUGE), and then promptly put it somewhere that the kids wouldn't see it. Not because the female form is dirty or anything like that, but because I don't want Katie to think that her body is wrong because it doesn't look like those. I don't want Kyle thinking that women are supposed to look like that.

And that is where I have my problem. All around the world, men and women are looking at that magazine and comparing. Comparing themselves to those women. Comparing the women they know to those women. And we're all falling short.

A percentage of the women in the magazine likely haven't had medical intervention to look the way they do; there apparently are some women blessed with a genetic code that doesn't ditch their breasts at the first sign of exercise or diet. (I hate you, by the way.)

But some of them have, and I think that hurts all of us.

---

OMG. Soreness. You'd think that since I run about 30-35 miles a week, lifting weights wouldn't make my legs sore at least.

You'd be wrong. Yesterday morning when I got out of bed, it was bad. And after sitting most of the day and teaching a twirling class, the first few steps of running were torture. But it eventually worked itself out. I feel great today and am determined to go back to the gym. It's going to take some savvy time management, but I am determined!

Resistance.

I walked past them, looking longingly. I started to step up on one, just to see, but I stopped myself just in time.

I am, of course, talking about the treadmills in the rec center.

I did it! I went on my lunch hour, worked out and resisted the allure of the treadmill. Instead, I lifted weights for about 40 minutes.

(Aside: My upper body strength is PATHETIC. How did I ever carry around a 2-year-old and a six-month-old at the same time?)

It was hard for me, to go to the gym and not run. Every nerve in my body, every thought in my mind was screaming "Run, run, run! C'mon Beth, you know you want to run." Since I've had success with running, it's all I want to do. But I realize and recognize (and have the opinion of experts) that weight training is just as important to my health, to my body and to my running, so I need to do that more.

I almost bolted when I was resting between reps once, but I pulled all the stubbornness and willpower residing in me (and that is quite a lot) and stayed with the weight machines.

I'll run tonight, no biggie.

---

On my run last night, I did something totally out of character for me: I didn't time it.

I've chronicled here before that I like knowing mileage and time and all that. You might even say that I'm obsessed with it.

In "The Complete Book of Running for Women," the author says that you shouldn't time every single run. Her reasoning is that if you don't hit your mental time, then you may get discouraged. Or if you don't hit your pace for the first mile, you may slow down.

She's absolutely right. I try not to look at my watch while I'm running, but around mile 3, I'll give it a peek. And every time, if I'm not about where I think I should be, my heart falls a little bit and instead of being motivated to push harder and make up the bad time on later miles, I slow down a bit.

So I didn't time last night's run. I have an idea of how long it took me, and it wasn't that far off my regular pace. I do think that I had a steadier pace than usual.

---

I have something new I'm going to try, but I need to think about it a bit...

Declaration.

People, I have brought out the Caro-Nan basket purse with daisies on it.

I am wearing red heels today, with red polish on my toes and my fingernails.

I ran six miles last *night* in shorts and a t-shirt.

I declare winter to be over and spring to have sprung!

(I'm going to be really pissed in a couple of weeks when it's bitterly cold again, just an FYI.)

---

Perspective is a good thing. I try, try, TRY to keep things in perspective, because as extreme girl, I overreact to EVERYTHING.

After running 10 miles on Saturday, my 6-miler last night was NOTHING. It was over in a blink of an eye.

What a day!

If you're in Southeast Texas and didn't spend yesterday outside DOING SOMETHING, then I don't know what is wrong with you!

It's like the OMG!SNOW!! of a week ago didn't even happen, and that makes me very happy.

I went to the hike and bike trail for the first time in a about a month to run. I like going out there for my long runs -- trust me, running around my neighborhood 20 times gets monotonous after a while -- and because of family things on the weekends, I hadn't been able to get out there for a while.

The run was great. I had been suffering a lack of self-confidence because the last long run I did -- a 8-miler last weekend -- was not great. I had to push myself to do it and my time was horrible and it didn't feel right. But I guess I was just off for whatever reason, because yesterday's run was practically effortless. I had some new tunes -- courtesy of Rusty buying The Best of the Foo Fighters -- and I felt like I literally floated through the run.

My time was not great, though. If I run The Gusher (in just a month) at the pace I ran yesterday, I'll finish in 2.5 hours. That's OK, but I really wanted to get closer to 2 hours flat.

I'm not sure if I should get worked up because I'm not there, or just be thrilled with the running.

---

I got a Kindle for a combination Christmas/graduation present two Christmases ago.

I wasn't sure that I'd love an electronic reader. I'm one of those freaks who likes to smell freshly printed books, and who likes to really WALLOW in a new book. When I'm done with a paperback book, you know it's been read like mad. I dog-ear pages, write in them, and crease the spines...

It's practically obscene.

But a friend of mine had one and she, a fellow extreme reader, had no problems adapting, so I took the plunge and haven't regretted it since.

Since I decided to start incorporating weight training into my routine, I was Googling various weight-training routines and somehow that led to my downloading The Complete Book of Running for Women, by Claire Kowalchik, a former managing editor at Runners' World magazine.

I started reading this last night and OMG. If you aren't a runner, but you want to be -- BUY THIS BOOK. BUY THIS BOOK YESTERDAY.

The first chapter is amazing. Here's the first sentence:

"Why take up running? Because it is the simplest, fastest, most accessible way to fitness and good health known to women. ... A mere 20 minutes three or four times a week is enough to make you fit, although most of us find that 20 minutes isn't enough to satisfy our desire to run."

Amen, sister.

She then goes on to list all the benefits of running. Here are some:

• Running is the quickest and most efficient means of weight loss. I can attest to that, having weighed in at 161 pounds on Sept. 25, 2010. My weight as of this morning? 119.8.
• Running reduces your risk of cardiac disease, the number-one killer of women.
• Running reduces your risk of stroke, the second-leading killer of women.
• Running lowers your risk of breast cancer.
• Running enhances your immune system.
• Running may reduce the symptoms of PMS. Again, preaching to the choir. I'd go into more detail, but that's another post for another day.
• Running prevents muscle and bone loss that occur with age.
• Running is GOOD FOR YOUR JOINTS. One doctor is quoted as saying, "Running doesn't cause arthritis; injury does."

After reading that list, WHY AREN'T YOU OUT THERE RUNNING YOUR ASS OFF RIGHT NOW???

That's just the first chapter -- I haven't even gotten to the parts about good nutrition and all that. After reading that last night, I wanted to go out and run an extra five miles! I immediately thought about my plan to run 3 or 4 miles today and felt sheepish and embarrassed!

I know I sound like a cult member -- that's how powerful running is.

I know I sound obsessed -- and I totally and completely am.

Pet peeves.

Buckle up. There are plenty.

---

Right now, my number one pet peeve is the driver of this white car in my neighborhood. My neighborhood is well-lit. There are a ton of kids in my neighborhood, who play outside continuously. Until the weather got really cold, they would sometimes play outside in the dark, keeping to someone's lit-up porch or driveway, but occasionally straying elsewhere.

Three times this past week, the driver of this white car in my neighborhood has almost hit me while I was running.

Three times.

I am very aware of my surroundings when I am running, even though I do wear my iPod. The three times this person has almost hit me, he or she should have been in the opposite lane from where I was running. The three times this person has almost hit me, he or she was going faster than he or she should have in a small neighborhood where children play.

---

When you lose weight, you figure you're going to need new clothes. But that's just the tip of the iceberg.

My tally today is 41 pounds lost. I need new everything: Shoes, underwear, pajamas, even the costume jewelry that I've picked up here and there is getting too big, and as of last night, my running tights are no longer "tight." The iPod hooked onto the waistband kept dragging them down last night. I'd just let that go, but I don't think we're over our winter yet, and they are the main reason why I've been able to keep running throughout this crazy weather.

Some of my purses are out of proportion to my new body. When you weigh 160 pounds and are a shortie, a big purse looks OK. When you don't weigh that much anymore, it looks like a clown purse and the straps hurt your shoulder.

So this weekend, I get to do some shopping (never a bad thing, right?).

---

I figured at some point, my children would probably outweigh me, unless I let myself get totally out of control.

I have a petite frame, even when I am overweight, and both of my children are sturdy, big-boned people. (It's all that milk that I've forced down them over the years; Russ calls me the Milk Nazi. ;-) )

Well, while the kids don't officially outweigh me right now, they're getting close. About 30 pounds and three inches separates me and Kyle and just a little more between Kate and me.

What am I going to do about that? It's not like I wrangle my kids around very much anyway, and I can't remember the last time I gave one of them a swat on the hiney. We argue like mad men, but there aren't any physical confrontations.

(We're lovers, not fighters.)

But what am I going to do if I need to physically restrain them? How am I going to do that? I'm hopeful that Russ and I have raised them to respect us and the decisions we make for them, but I'm also not naive.

What if there's a time in five years when Kyle is driving (OMG) when he is bound and determined to go somewhere, I say no, his father's not around, and he decides to go anyway? Three years ago, I could have physically stopped him.

I won't be able to anymore.

---

I hear it all the time.

"Oh, I'm a mom. I don't care about how I look."

"Moms aren't supposed to look fit and healthy."

"I gave up caring how I looked years ago when the kids came. That's how it's supposed to be."

These statements drive me insane.

No, Moms of the World, you are not allowed to become overweight in unhealthy ranges just because you have children. In fact, they should be your main reason for trying to stay in shape, trying to be healthy.

It's like somewhere someone (Society? A man?) has decided that once a woman carries a baby around inside her uterus, and then delivers it, her self (not "herself) becomes negated.

That's not true. I am a firm believer (and I have written about it here before) that you can do whatever you want to do. If you truly don't want to be healthy, if you truly don't care about how you look or feel, then that's on you, honey. It's not because you're a mom. It's not because you have kids.

It's because THAT'S HOW YOU WANT TO BE.

My children have not suffered because I have become healthier. In fact, they've benefitted from it in many, many ways:

1. I'm happier and have more energy. When I was overweight, I was so tired all the time. I was so cranky all of the time -- not because of them, but because I was disgusted with myself, so any little issue with them got rolled up and confused in my issues and I overreacted. I'm still cranky, but it's a more reasonable crankiness, and more rational.
2. We are eating healthier. I've figured out ways to make things more palatable without taste suffering. We're eating different things. And they're asking questions. Katie and I went out to eat last night before we attended a play. I got a grilled chicken salad, with dressing on the side, and didn't eat much of the dressing. She asked why, and we had a discussion about how salads are healthy if you don't drench them in five tons of dressing. Will it stick? I guess we'll see.
3. I've written before that when I am overweight, I enter this state of almost claustrophobia. I don't want to do things. When I feel good about myself, the sky's the limit! We're going on a vacation to a Caribbean island this summer. Honestly, when I was overweight, it would have taken a Herculean effort on my part to get excited about this.

Again, if you want to be overweight and deal with all the things that go along with that -- depression, health issues, joint issues, etc. -- go right ahead. But do not blame the fact that you're a mom for that.

Do not.

---

And my last pet peeve: All those damn "shape-up" shoes.

You know how you can really shape up? Put on any kind of athletic shoe and get out there and GET MOVING!!

Wearing a "shape-up" shoe while you walk the mall eating a huge pretzel with cheese and drinking a gigantic full-fat Starbucks is not going to help you. Wearing a "shape-up" shoe while you walk from the door to the mailbox and then to the car is not going to help you.

There is ONE way to get in shape and that is EXERCISE.

If you're going to spend that kind of money, buy a good running shoe. Buy clothing and accessories that will enable you to get out there and exercise! Join a gym where you feel comfortable. Buy an iPod so you feel encouraged.

Don't buy those damn shoes. They're useless.

Apologies...

To the neighborhood. I just kinda felt like singing out loud tonight while I ran.

To the greyhounds that live at the house on the corner. I know my running while y'all can't is confusing.

Addition but no subtraction.

I have issues with going to a gym.

I haven't always had this problem, and pre-running, I belonged to a gym and went every night after I got off work. But once I started running, and saw the awesome results, I didn't have merely issues with the gym; I had an entire subscription.

My husband and I joined a gym last year and I ran on the treadmill at night for a while. But I HATE treadmills with the fire of a thousand suns. I'd go, intent on lifting weights, and I'd run the entire time. I couldn't find a balance, although I know there has to be one.

So yesterday morning, I was texting with my BFF who was suffering through her fourth or so snow day. She's lost a considerable amount of weight (her baby is almost 3), but she did it through a combination of weights, cardio and eating reasonably.

I was whining about not being able to run yesterday (rain and miserably cold weather AGAIN) and she said that I should just join a gym.

And all of the sudden, it clicked.

I work at the Lamar Institute of Technology. We can utilize the wonderful Sheila Umphrey Recreational Sports Center at Lamar University.

So today, when I get an opportunity, I am going to join. I won't be able to actually use the gym until Monday, but here's the plan:

Hire a personal trainer.
Weights during my lunch hour at the gym.
Possibly a class two times a week at the gym.
Running at night, like I've been doing.
And, for those days when the weather is bad or my husband is going to be out of town for work, I can run on the treadmills.

I'll do this on my lunch hour, and bring a lunch. I won't be able to do this every single day; I have meetings and things to do that take up my lunch hour some days. But I can do this at least two times a week, easy.

I'm adding something I NEED to add, without taking away from my first love. Why didn't I think of this before?

Oops.

If my husband had done to me what I did yesterday, I would have stomped around, passively aggressively slamming doors and when he asked me what was wrong, I would have stormed to the bedroom, sobbing.

Thankfully, running isn't as bitter or mean.

Six years ago, on Feb. 7, 2005, I started running. Timidly, tentatively, but still, I ran. I wasn't a runner. I weighed more than 200 pounds.

I ran at night because I didn't want anyone else to see me thundering down the road. I ran at night because it was easier not to think about what I was actually doing in the dark.

I didn't have an iPod, I didn't have a gazillion running shorts or skirts. I didn't have any thoughts that I'd ever run five miles, much less 13.1.

What did have was a desire to be better, a need to be healthier.

Six.

Even though I managed to run some during the insanely horrible weather last week, I still lost so much ground as far as speed. When it was so cold, I slowed down because I never knew if the patch of wet pavement I was running on was just wet or icy. (Wet = I will live. Icy = Bad news.)

We're back to what passes as "normal" winter weather for us (at least for another day), but my mind is still back to Friday when it was cold and icy and miserably miserable.

I decided to up my nightly mileage to six miles a night, and that probably has attributed to my slowdown. I remember when I first started running five a night -- it seemed to take forever and I spent a good part of the first two miles or so cursing my decision to run five.

Then, one night, I finished up my five and realized that I didn't curse at all.

I signed up for The Gusher Half-Marathon over the weekend. It's March 12 (the day after my 16th wedding anniversary). I want to run it in less than two-and-a-half hours. Two hours would be awesome.

I have a month to get there. (Fingers crossed.)

Breather.

OK, world, Mother Nature, God, whoever -- Saturday and Sunday totally made up for the nastiness of last week.

Thank you.

More, please?

I hate cold weather.

If I wanted to live in a place where it gets down to 20-something degrees, I would.

I prefer balmy winters and hotter-than-hell summers, so I live in Southeast Texas.

EXCEPT FOR THIS WEEK.

This week has really threw me for a loop. I wore SHORTS a week ago on my run. Yesterday, I wore four shirts (two of which were sweatshirts), and two pairs of socks in addition to my tights and gloves and hat and all that crap.

This is ridiculousness. Really.

I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I'm very routine-oriented. Once I figure out something that works, I do it over and over and over again. When I started running again, I structured my life so that it was possible to run in the evenings during the week.

This weather has really tore that plan to shreds, which in turn has made me at loose ends and that's never a good thing. Idle hands are the devil's playground and all that.

I feel scattered. I feel lost. I NEED MY GOOD WEATHER BACK SO THAT I CAN RUN MORE THAN THREE MILES AT A TIME!!!

As a testament to running, though, I will reveal that despite the fact that I've only run about 15 miles this week, and I have eaten a few comfort foods, I still lost weight this week.

As of today, I've lost 40 pounds since September 25. I've read studies that say that running boosts your metabolism so much that even when you don't run, you still burn more calories than a non-runner.

This week proves that.

The sun is out this morning. HIgh is supposed to reach the mid-50s. As soon as the temp hits the 40s, I'm out there.

Maybe I can just wear two shirts today.

33 degrees.

In August, when:

• I am slogging through air as thick as the white gravy my kids love so much;
• I am wearing only shorts and a sports bra and don't care who sees me;
• I can feel the sweat slowly roll from my head to the small of my back where it pools;
• I wait to run until the cool/er part of the night --- say 10 or 11 p.m.;
• I wear eau de Off as my perfume of choice;

I hope I remember tonight:

• The way the neighbors' fireplaces smelled.
• How the wind burned my face until it became numb.
• The sound a small puddle of ice made when I stepped in it.
• The still, the absolute silence of it all.

Guilty. Irrational.

That's how I'm feeling, which should surprise no one who really knows me. :-)

I had planned on not running last night, because I thought it would be raining all day and night. I had a work event to attend, but got home by 7:45 or so. It was very cold, but clear.

And I still didn't run. I sat on my rear and watched two DVR'd episodes of "Tabatha's Salon Takeover," so it's not like I was using my time wisely. It's not like I can say, "Well, I didn't run because I was finding a cure for cancer" or something.

I was OK at the time. Now, I'm feeling very guilty, even though I know it's a horribly irrational guilt.

One day of not running isn't going to kill me.

One day of not running isn't going to put weight on me (in fact, when I weighed myself this morning, I had lost a little).

Most importantly, one day of not running is not going to keep me from getting out there this evening!

Iron will.

I'd say that at least 80 percent of running is mental, given that you have the physical capabilities to run in the first place.

The percentage may even be greater.

I was really tired when I got home from work yesterday. It was a long, busy day, and then I had to pick up the kids and then I had two seconds at home before I had to take Kyle to trombone lessons. Then supper, clean up from supper, supervise kids in various endeavors, laundry, we did our taxes (yay refund!), and it was 8 p.m. before I could really even think about running.

I had all these arguments in my head for NOT running, and I briefly entertained them. But I knew I was going to run anyway.

I have pretty strong willpower (my husband calls it "stubbornness"). When I make up my mind to do something, that's it. I am going to do it.

And if you tell me that I don't need to run every day, or that I should skip tonight or tomorrow, then I'm even more determined to get out there.

(Once, several years ago, I grabbed a mint as we were leaving a restaurant. It was green and white, instead of red and white. Russ warned me that those candies taste gross; I put it in my mouth anyway. Yes, it was very gross, but I ate it TO SPITE HIM. I know. I am stubborn beyond anything you can possibly imagine.)

Tonight, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, it is supposed to be pretty darned cold. I don't know that I will run tonight -- rain + extreme cold = no way in hell. But the other days?

I likely will run. My stubbornness will keep me warm.