Mommy Is Trying Not To Be Fat

I recently picked up my running routine.  I think I was discouraged after my performance at a recent road race.  The silly thing is, I did really well.  I beat Marcus by 5 minutes and even came in 22nd for my age group which is something I feel pretty proud about.  I was disappointed however, because I didn't beat Marcus's best time.  Oh, well.  I guess we'll go for that next year.  Anyway, long story short, I took a few weeks off and during that time ate approximately 6 bags of Cadbury mini-eggs all on my own (as I've already stated a few times, I know), had a birthday which required two chocolate cakes within a week, and various other foods that are definitely not to be consumed if one isn't doing something to offset the effects.

Therefore, Marcus and I decided that on April 1st we would start a healthy eating and workout routine again so that's where we stand.  As a result, the girls and I have been going out for a run every other day and it has reinforced my belief that running is akin to labor.  Yes, as in, childbirth.

The idea struck me during the previously mentioned road race.  Marcus had determined he was going to pace me and I was OK with that.  Until we hit about the 3rd mile and I realized I wanted to murder him.  He was running elbow to elbow with me, breathing heavily and, in general, invading my personal space.  It was all I could do not to stick my foot out and trip him just to get rid of him.  Everything he was doing, like living, was driving me crazy and I recalled the last time I felt that way was when I was in labor with both of the girls.  Luckily for both of us, Marcus called it quits shortly around the time I was plotting his demise and we're married to this day.

When I run with the girls it's the same problem.  I always wear my headphones but I keep them relatively low so I can hear the cars that might be coming up behind us.  As a result I also hear the incessant questioning from a high-pitched little voice just far enough way that I couldn't understand what she was saying even without wearing headphones.  I can tell she's asking the same question over and over and OVER again because it always has the same inflection to the tone.  After so many miles, it's like nails on a chalkboard and I cannot take it anymore.  I want it to go away but doing so would result in some pretty serious charges and that just isn't an option.

There is something to be said about having the same emotions mid-workout that one does while in labor and I wonder if any scientific research has been done to verify this theory?  Maybe if I do end up getting my Ph.D. I'll look into this conundrum... 

Mommy Isn't Fat

I had a "kids say the darndest things" moment today.  As Josephine, Alexandra, and I lounged around in bed early this morning Josephine touched my belly and said "baby."  Uh...a few thoughts entered my mind, jumbling around:  "God Almighty, I hope she's wrong...wait a minute, how does she know baby's come from mommy's tummies?...Damnit, I need to start running again...I knew I shouldn't have had those last 5 bags of Cadbury mini-eggs." 

Anyway, I don't know where she got the idea that a baby can be in a tummy.  Either she's clairvoyant (which I hope she isn't because of the social stigma) or she's pointing out that mommy is getting a little chubby.  Regardless, it couldn't have been a better boost to starting my running routine again.  Tomorrow.  If not tomorrow then definitely Friday.  Saturday at the latest.

Update, 4/6/2014:  Josephine touched Marcus's belly and said "baby" this evening.  She's not clairvoyant!