Why?

First things first: I sent my children back to school today. Katie (9.5) is in fourth grade, and Kyle (12) is in seventh grade.

Katie is at her same elementary school she's attended since kindergarten, and her fourth-grade teacher was even her kindergarten teacher briefly (she was moved back to fourth grade when they needed an additional teacher). So no worries, there. Really, no worries ever about that girl. She's independent and tough and pushes through anything.

But dropping my Kylemazoo off at the junior high? Just about broke my heart in about 23 pieces. So many what ifs. What if he doesn't get the right books from his locker in between classes? What if he can't get his locker unlocked? What if he doesn't have enough time to eat all his lunch? What if someone makes fun of him for whatever reason? (Answer to that one: I will make them regret every second of it.)

He does everything first, so it hits harder, deeper. (And since Katie does everything last, there's that momentous weight of "This is the last child of mine who will ever..." Ugh. This being a mom thing sucks so hard.)

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I got up at 4 a.m. and ran 8 miles this morning. I burned more than 600 calories. I have a schedule worked out -- up at 4 a.m., and run 8 miles on Monday, Tuesday and Thursdays; up at 4 a.m. and run 6 miles on Wednesdays and Fridays. Do my long run on Saturday and do whatever on Sunday. When the weather cools off, I'll add a couple of miles here and there during my lunch hour.

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I was looking through some old pictures last night -- so old that they were actual prints from actual film -- and came across some pics from when Russ and I went to Walt Disney World before we had kids. He had just finished up his engineering degree, so we went to Florida for a vacation.

I was so chubby -- and this isn't just me being highly critical of myself; I showed the pictures to the kids and they made comments as well (and my kids have ZERO tact).

I found myself wondering why I was so chubby. No kids, so I couldn't blame the flabby belly on being pregnant twice. No kids, so it's not like I didn't have time to exercise or cook meals. I was still young, so I couldn't blame getting older and a slowing metabolism.

I think I am in better shape now at 39, after having two children, than I was at 24 or 25.

Was it laziness or a feeling of immortality?

I wanted to shake that girl and scream at her, "What in the hell are you doing with your time?"

I wonder if she would have listened to me. I doubt it.

The stubbornness that gets me up out of bed at 4 every single morning and has me pushing myself past anything I ever thought I could do is the same stubbornness that would have me ignore all suggestions and warnings and helpful hints.

Then, it was a liabilty. Now, it's an asset. :-)