A nearly perfect Sunday morning

That’s what I’m having today. Here’s what it *has*: a 8.94 mile run, a new low on the scale, an egg white sandwich, a long, hot, uninterrupted shower, a chatty smiling baby, lots of cinnamon vanilla cream coffee in my wicked awesome Disney villains mug, and nothing to really get done.

Here’s where it falls short: Megan, the .5 miles I could have run to put me in first place in that damn Nike+ challenge, the blister I feel forming on my left big toe, breakfast at the Egg & I.

I suppose I can’t have it all. The run was good…I thought I was going to poop myself around mile 6. I mean that literally. I was thisclose to knocking on a stranger’s door to ask to use their bathroom. Instead, I walked (OH NO, God, I hate walking…hate hate hate) for about half a block and felt better. I also discovered I really don’t like running on streets. Around here, the bike lane is very tilted and my hip hurts. Also, I hate slowing down at every cross street, and I get super paranoid about getting run over. I’d rather just veg out on the bike trail, even though the concrete kills my back. It’s crazy to me to think about my running right now…on January 1, I raced only a 5K SO MUCH SLOWER than I just ran 9 miles. And I know the goal for my first half should just be to finish, but I find myself thinking about setting a time goal. But then I find myself talking myself out of that…it’s an inner dialogue that I somehow think is going to continue right up to race time. Only six weeks until I can stop talking to myself about that.

And a raspberry granola pancake would have been STELLAR this morning, but egg whites on toast really does hit the spot, so I suppose I can’t complain about that.

Megan? Well, she’ll be here in a week and will look perfectly non-impressed when I come back from my long run.

The scale? Yeah…I weigh about what I did before Jesse planted Ryan in my belleh. Weird. But I’m still sporting this ultra-sexy saggy belly skin. When I do push ups, it hangs down soooo attractively. You’re jealous, admit it. I am not complaining about this state of affairs, however. Running like this lets me eat like a damn horse (helllooooooo Samoas) and the numbers don’t go up. I feel like crap when I eat that crap, but I’m learning to take better care of myself. It’s amazing how my body rebels when I try to give it junk. My back-of-my-mind goal is to jump on the clean eating bandwagon, but since I don’t do the cooking and only shop from a Jesse-created list, I’m not sure how that will work. In the meantime, I have a newly found love for veggies and hummus. Seriously. I could eat them all day. (these days, you do NOT want to be behind me when I’m running, this I promise.)

As for the .5 mile…well, it’s a good thing for my uber-competitive nature. I get pissed when I get beat. I really do. I had to dial it back this morning when some random guy passed me from behind (and scared the HELL out of me…a simple “on your left” would work, man) and I started to try to go with him. I know it’s just some silly online challenge and it means nothing, but I get fired up when I sit in 4th place for days and days. Right now I’m in 2nd, but that won’t even last the day, I’m sure. I totally would have added that half mile if I had known, though. Yeah, I’m that guy.

This post is getting dreadfully long, isn’t it? It has no point, does it? I wouldn’t give myself a very good grade. I suppose I’ll blame the run…yeah, that’s it. I’m tired from the run. The best part about that is on this nearly perfect Sunday morning, I have time to rest and recover.

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