All over the page

Lord, my moods are moving quicker than a ball on a racquetball court. First feeling good about something, then the next 10 minutes are spent turning said accomplishment into nothing. But hey, that kind of thinking made my 3 mile run/walk fly by this morning!

I hate PMS. Like last night, I felt like the Michelin Man. I felt like my stomach was so huge (yes, I am bloated) that I was embarrassed to go to the gym. That is just sad. When my son said, “I’d sorta like to just hang out & watch a movie tonight”, I nearly turned the car around. Lynn’s post from yesterday was the only thing that kept me driving to the gym.

I got to the gym and worked out – biceps and triceps and 20 minutes (hard minutes!) on the elliptical. I went heavy on the weights, finishing my tricep overhead press with the 40 pound dumbbell. Woo hoo. I had also done my usual 30 minute walk at lunch.

But I still felt crappy because I had pizza for dinner. Son & I went out, I ordered a medium anchovy pizza, thin crust, light cheese. This was better than the buffet, but still…. I ate 3 pieces and took the rest home. I had one more piece when I got home from the gym, and then packaged the last 2 up for his lunch today. What I really wanted to do was scarf down the remainder of the pizza, washed down with a couple of cold ones. At least I didn’t do that!

I got up this morning and went out for a run/walk. I made it 3 miles, running at a pretty good clip for the running parts. I ran all the segments I was running this summer, and even ran to the top of the last hill before cooling down, rather than stopping at the bottom and walking the rest of the way. So then I spent my cool down thinking about the fact that even though I finished a tri last year, I don’t feel like a “triathlete”, and even though I got up to 18 miles, I don’t really think I’m a runner since I make pretty liberal use of Jeff Galloway’s walk breaks – my runs sometimes feel more like walks with run breaks. In other words, my athletic effort is not serious and I’m no athlete. (Thanks dad for ruining my self esteem as a child. It’s real difficult to re-build). I hate feeling fat.