On a roll.

So this past Sunday, I shook things up a little: I did an 8-mile run, and then a 4-mile bike ride.

(I don't have to tell you what part of me was SORE Sunday evening and Monday morning, do I? It wasn't too bad, though. I've hurt worse.)

This is all part of my Grand Plan to do a triathlon at some point this year, because obviously running isn't enough punishment for me.


I've got the running part down, and I know I can do the cycling part -- I just have to build up some endurance (and a tougher rear).

But the swimming...that will be a challenge.

I can swim. Living where I do, it would be foolhardy not to know how. I took lessons as a child, and I swim frequently each summer.

But I don't know the real way to do it.

When I'm swimming, in my mind, I'm mimicking the smooth, precise strokes of Michael Phelps. In reality, well, I'm sure the lifeguard or bystanders are watching me intently to make sure that the flailing and splashing aren't the beginnings of a drowning.

So I need to find someone who can work with me on the mechanics of swimming, and then I have to practice, practice, practice. Luckily, I have access to an indoor pool at Lamar University, and I have access to an outdoor pool at my in-laws' house.

I just have to do it.

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I work out a lot. Run six days a week, bike two or three times a week (still working that out), do strength training twice a week, walk everywhere I possibly can (even in 4-inch heels).

I watch what I eat. I eat a vegetarian diet with minimal caffeine. I limit sweets and snacks. I try to focus on raw vegetables and fruits.

So why, oh why, am I still carrying around these Godawful saddlebags?

I can understand the excess skin on my stomach -- I was pregnant twice, I gained and lost 100+ pounds -- but the saddlebags?

What the heck?

Older + wiser

Way, way, way back in 2005 when I first started this running thing, I ran every single day.

Every single day. Now if it were lightning, I didn't run. But otherwise...every single day.

I was afraid that if I took one day off, then I'd take another and another and another and another and the next thing I knew, I'd be back at 235.

(Not pretty, in case you're wondering.)

Back then, I was younger. I had small children (Kate was just FOUR!) who weren't involved in a ton of activities. I had a career with a little less responsibility than I do now.

And eventually, once I ran my half-marathon, I quit. I was burned out. I see it now; I didn't see it then.

Now, I take a rest day.

I know, I know. Better, more experienced runners than I say you should take two days off. (And I do that, sometimes.)

I don't want to burn out. I don't want to give in. I don't want to stop running. Ever.

This was my first week of the new schedule with the new off day on Thursday. And you know what I found this morning?

That taking a rest day makes me want to run even more the next day.

Twelve.

The number twelve has played a big part in my life.

In high school, my husband and his friends had an entire...lifestyle? philosophy?...surrounding "Magic 12." I don't even remember the genesis of this particular "thing," but trust me, it was a thing.

One of the apartments we lived in after we married was #212. Kyle was born on July 12. Katie was born in the twelfth month. If you reverse the digits of my birthdate, it's 12. Russ and I got married on March 11th because the 12th was a Sunday. (OK, not really. We got married March 11 because it was the first Saturday of spring break and Russ was working on his second degree...)

But anyway...twelve.

I've been feeling off the past few weeks. I don't know if it's post-Christmas depression or weather depression or turning 40 depression or what. It's been enough to worry me, to make me force myself to run, and to forcibly remove myself from any situation where I might be tempted to eat my weight in chocolate.

I'm happy that I was self-aware enough to know the dark road where I was headed. I'm happy that I was able to force myself to run and to eat (mostly) healthily when I felt like doing the total opposite.

Friday was particularly a bad time. I was trying to get things together and done for Katie's birthday party, and everywhere I turned I felt blocked in. I was stressing over getting my run in the next morning, and getting the party stuff together, and getting my hair cut, and, and, and...then I had an epiphany:

Who says I HAVE to run in the morning? I mean, when it makes sense to run in the morning, then by all means, have at it. But on that particular Saturday, why?

So I put it off until after the party, after we got home and unpacked and everything and all was settled and good. I drove to the hike and bike trail in Beaumont.

And I ran twelve very awesome, very soul-completing miles.

And bingo! Just like that, the fog lifted. Seriously, it was life-affirming. I felt like my old self again!

Now, I still got upset with Kyle the next morning when he misplaced the money I gave him for the church offering five seconds after I gave it to him.

And I still fussed for a longer-than-necessary time when both kids left their dirty clothes in the bathroom.

But that heavy feeling, that feeling of being pulled under by something you cannot control was gone.

Thank goodness!

(Also, a huge thank-you to the lady who works in our snack bar at work. She told me this morning, "Girl, you just keep getting smaller and smaller!" I needed that. I'm not getting smaller and smaller; I'm pretty much staying the same, but I'll take that kind of compliment any day!)

Change.

Here's the deal: I am old.

I will be 40 in a little more than two months. There were days in my youth where I could stay up most of the night and get up at 8 a.m. There were days in my youth where I worked from 4 p.m. to midnight, then got home in time for the late-night baby feeding, heading to bed around 2:30 a.m., only to be woken at 5 a.m. by a 3-year-old.

From 1999 to 2004 or so, I slept about three hours a night. I am glad those days are OVER.

My current running/workout schedule looks like this: Monday through Friday, 4 a.m. 6- or 8-mile runs; Wednesday and Friday, 45-minute session at the gym; Saturday, 6 a.m. 10-, 12- or 15-mile runs; and on Sunday, I rest.

(Ha. A mom rest? I crack myself up.)

Wednesday is a pretty busy day for me. I have my 4 a.m. run, work, my 45-minute session at the gym, and I teach a twirling class from 6:10-6:40 in the evening. I am addicted to "Top Chef," and that comes on at 9 (my usual bedtime).

So in addition to my busier-than-usual schedule, I am also staying up later than usual. And when the alarm goes off at 4 a.m. on Thursday, I do not want to get up.

I still want to do some sort of exercise/activity/workout six days a week. Something has to be changed:

I need to:

• Get younger. That isn't going to happen.
• Cut out my activities on Wednesday. Again, not going to happen.
• Stop watching my beloved "Top Chef." Ummm...no.
• Stop running, or take two days off a week. NO!
• Change up my schedule. BINGO!

So here's the plan: Thursdays are my new off day. Now, once it gets warmer and the time changes, I may do some sort of running/walking/biking in the evening, but right now, it's an off day. Sunday, I'm going to run. It won't be early in the morning, and it won't be late at night. There is usually a couple of hours on Sunday where I don't really have anything I have to do, so I'll just run then.

See, you can exercise if you really want to. Really!

The struggle

The colder weather makes running very difficult.

When I had an extra 20 pounds packed on my frame last year, I didn't feel the cold as much. At my current weight, I feel it.

Oh man, do I feel it.

Saturday morning, it was 31 degrees when I headed out. My whole body ached -- knees, ankles, hips, knuckles.

This morning, it was 70 degrees when I went out to run, and I felt GREAT!

I'm trying really hard to focus on the fact that I'm still out there running. I'm not giving up. I'm not giving in.

The cold is really bumming me out, though.

I keep telling myself that at this time last year, I wasn't overly thrilled about running. I wasn't running the mileage I am running now.

But I was still running.

That's what counts. Getting out there every morning (or afternoon or evening).

I'm still running with one eye on the calendar, hoping we get through the rest of January and all of February without frigid temps.

Never fear...

I haven't stopped running.

No way!

I just don't have a lot to write about. I get up at 4 a.m., and I run. I go to the gym on Wednesdays and Fridays. I sleep a little later on Saturdays. I take Sundays off.

Exciting stuff, huh?

I had to run on the treadmill -- that most hated device -- yesterday it stormed most of the day. I'm happy I have access to them for days when the weather is really bad, but truly, if I had to run on a treadmill every day, I would lose my mind. For REAL.

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Beaumont has a running store, On The Run. I am really excited about this, because heretofore, to get any cool running stuff, I had to squeeze in a trip when I went to Houston or Austin, or I had to order stuff off the Internet and cross my fingers that it would fit or would work the way I needed it.

Now, I can just drive across town. :-) The kids and I went on Saturday. I don't need new shoes, but I bought a new pair of socks that I AM IN LOVE WITH. Honestly. Don't take socks for granted. The right ones can make all the difference. (Running socks are the new purses for the part of me that's slightly a hoarder, according to my husband.)

I also bought a foot wheel. It's a roller that you put on the floor and roll your foot over and over. After my main aches and pains from the marathon were gone, I continued to have foot pain. The foot wheel will help with this.

There were all kinds of cool stuff, but I had the kids with me, and I...had the kids with me. I will be back!

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I don't eat nearly enough fruit. I'm not a big fan for the stupidest and most embarrassing reason in the history of reasons:

I am completely lazy and don't like the preparation involved.

Seriously, y'all. I am being completely honest here. I know. Trust me, I know. I mean, most preparation of fruit involves...washing it. Sometimes, you have to peel it or cut it up or something crazy like that.

I can do that with vegetables with no problem, but I just have this block with fruit. You want to hear something even weirder?

I am the total Fruit Nazi with my kids. I push fruit on them like I push milk. When one of them wanders through the kitchen looking for something to eat, I suggest fruit first. Don't want fruit? Then you must not be very hungry.

Since Sunday, I have made it my goal to have three servings of fruit a day. It hasn't been difficult -- I eat strawberries every morning in my oatmeal. I have a banana for a snack during the day. And at night, when I've finally been able to sit down in the recliner, I'll have either another banana or a Clementine for another snack.

I want to push that to another serving eventually. I just have to find another fruit that I like. I'm not a big fan of plums or peaches or nectarines. Grapes, I can do. Apples...meh. I'm finding that I do like cantaloupe, after an almost 40-year span of decidedly not liking it. I like kiwi, but again...the preparation (I know! Trust me, I know how completely ridiculous I am being.).

(Ooh! I just remembered -- I *LOVE* tomatoes, and tomatoes are fruits! I eat tomatoes at least once a day every single day. That's another serving right there!)

I can do this. I will do this.

2011 by the numbers...

Here's how it breaks down:

Miles run: 2,100, estimated. My first run with my Garmin was on Feb. 24, and I had 1,789.5 miles from Feb. 24 through Dec. 31. I was running in January and February, so I did an average and got 2,100 miles total. It's close to that.

Races run: The Gusher Half, March 2011; BASF/WalkUnited 5K; and the MetroPCS Dallas White Rock Marathon.

Pounds lost: Fifteen. I started 2011 at 130, and lost more after that.

Others: I ran 310 days in 2011, so I missed only 55 days. Of those 55 days, four were when I was sick with strep and when I had my surgery in August. There were some rain days, a rest day once a week (sometimes two), and the rest days before the marathon.

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So far, in 2012, I've run six miles. :-)