...is when you most need to.
That's what I reminded myself of yesterday when I finally made it out for a four mile run.
Wednesdays have become "my afternoon off" from the kids lately, when DH picks them up and does something with them (tangent--how is it fair, in any way whatsoever, that when Mom picks up, it's grocery store/ Target/ swim lessons/ the gym/ and/or home for homework, dinner, play/TV, baths, go to bed. But when Dad picks up it's pizza place/ the park for a picnic/ or (last night) the Fall Festival for carnival rides? Dad = fun & games. Mom = all work & no fun. Bitter much?)
Anyway... I changed into my workout clothes & left the office after 5 p.m. I ran to Target to return some too-big clothes for Sophie (sizes for kids are just as messed up as they are for us women!) and some defective sprinklers, and then of course had to shop for a few things. The entire time I'm walking around Target I'm repeating under my breath "I don't want to run. I don't want to run. I don't want to run." This attitude was entirely influenced by hormones. I'm in the midcycle BLAH session, which totally bites, as any woman older than 35 well knows.
So my hormones are through the floor and screaming at me "BUY CANDY NOW" and "DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RUN." I bought some candy--my fave, candy corn autumn mix--but I didn't open it (still haven't) and got my ass in my car and drove to a friendly neighborhood street and hit the road.
I hated the entire first mile. Hated it so much that I ran myself into the ground and finished it in 9:30. That's what happens to me when I run mad--I run faster to get it the hell over with. The next 3 miles were alternating slow/fast/walk. I was all over the place. By mile 3 I felt much better and by mile 4 I was a new person.
41 minutes of running = happier, healthier, less bitchy Laura. See, this is why I need the night off from the kids. Imagine my poor family had I not gotten in that run. They'd have a lot more to tell Oprah one day had I gone straight home and not let the endorphins kick the grumpy hormones to the curb.
On a high from the run, I got home (the family wasn't there for another 30 minutes, woohoo!) and changed & cleaned the kitchen & made dinner for everyone. I ate on plan. Put the kids down for bed, and while DH talked with his sister on the phone*, I went to the family room and watched my TV boyfriend, Alton Brown. I *heart* Good Eats & DVR it every night. Of course, watching episodes of pancakes & waffles probably isn't the best way to end an evening. But hey, that's what my boy had to offer so I enjoyed every minute of it.
I fell asleep in the recliner which is a big No No on my "no night eating" plan. Wouldn't you know it, I woke up at midnight and ate 6 oreos (double stuffed!) and 2 chips ahoy. Not horrible, but it broke my weeks long streak of no night eating.
So. I'm back on the wagon today. Eating a carb down day in preparation for my carb up days tomorrow and Saturday before the Half on Sunday. I'm just hoping I don't go completely mad and wreck my mental focus on good food. Once it starts, it can be insidious. It's so easy to let a little slip here and there add up to going back to horrible habits.
Today I'm planning on running 3 miles and then the next two days I'll take off. I have to share this new ugly fact--I have a plantar's wart on the bottom of my foot, just south of the ball of my foot near my arch. Just this week have I noticed it, and that's because it hurts. I can't walk barefoot in the house is how bad it hurts; it's OK when I wear my cushioned flip flops. I didn't notice it much on my run yesterday, and I'm hoping that it doesn't get worse before Sunday. Next week I'll get it removed at the doctor, but I'm afraid to do anything with it before the race for fear it will hurt worse.
*DH is going to Colorado next weekend to visit his brother Jeff, who had a heart attack a couple weeks ago. I didn't mention it here before because, well, it just didn't affect me that much yet. Other than, of course, it's just one more thing for me to worry about. Heart disease is a freaking nightmare in DH's family. His dad died of a massive attack at age 50. His brother Keith is 58 and has had 2 heart attacks already. Jeff is only 53, and exercises a lot & is in pretty good shape (of course, he had untreated high cholesterol and a taste for rich foods, so add that to his genes and I guess it's not impossible to imagine him having a heart attack). DH is 46. And about 20 pounds overweight right now. And has a fairly horrible diet (I'm trying to feed him lunch now, but he won't eat what I make for dinner, the doofus). And isn't working out like he wants to. And has massive stress in his life. Recipe for a heart attack? Absolutely. Scary, scary stuff. He is on medicine for cholesterol, but how much that can avert is anyone's guess.