I just got back from Claddagh – the Irish bar/restaurant. It’s Thursday Trivia Night where my husband and I try in vain to get the answers to questions that always seem to just evade the realms of our knowledge of useless information. I drank two beers – Shandy’s (half beer and half Seven-Up mmmm…refreshing) and gorged on the fried cabbage rolls. The calories I consumed are well over what I burned today running. That’s the pain of running. It’s only about 100 calories per mile. You sweat and struggle, drink a beer, and it’s all for naught. I read recently that rookie marathon runners are sometimes 15 pound heavier than when they first began training because they think they have a license to eat whatever they want. ( Sort of what a lot of first time pregnant mom’s think…or was that only me? I gained 60 pounds!). It seems like we are not the first cheeseburger lovers turned marathon runners.
I was alone with my thoughts today. Scary, I know. I was on my way to the gym to workout. There was no way that I was running in the heat. Hats off to Kirsten for doing it. I would die. I died getting out of my house and into the car to drive the less than 2 miles to the gym. Pathetic. Driving to the gym which is relatively close – wasting gas, adding to my carbon footprint – just to run 4 miles. I know what you’re thinking, I could have run there and back. But, it was sooooooo hot and humid. 90 degrees plus the humidty. Excuses, excuses, I’m full of them. Anyway, I get into my sticky car and was half way there when I realized I forgot my Ipod. I wasn’t turning back because I had to get my run in so that I could make happy hour at Claddagh. ( I have my priorities in order 
)
I got up on the treadmill and didn’t even bother warming up. I just wanted to get it over with. That’s all I thought about, finishing. Not really…a million thoughts went through my head. For example, there was a guy about 6′ 4″ walking (strolling really) on the treadmill directly in front of me blocking my lovely view of the parking lots with his backside. With nothing better to look at I saw his shape and thought his butt is the same size as mine and I am a female and much shorter. The motorcyclist was right I do have chubby cheeks (aka “fat ass”)! This got me thinking to what my ‘wise’ 18 year old son said to Kirsten and I yesterday after we ate hot dogs and chips at the park with the students. He said why are you guys filling your bodies with junk. It’s not the calories as much as the junk. He said to lose weight it’s simple, calories in must be less than calories expended. But, beyond that, you guys are asking your bodies to run a marathon but you are not giving it any energy to do it. How can it run on garbage. After I yelled at him for being so mean, I had to agree, the kid had a point there.
The next day Kirsten and I discussed all the extra weight we are carrying around. She’s carrying the equivalent of a ten-pound bowling ball and I am carrying the equivalent of a four of them! I dare you to pick up a bowling ball and run with it…just one mile! That’s what we are doing each time our feet hit the pavement. No wonder we are slow and tired. We are filling our bodies with regular gasoline and we should be fueling it with ultra premium. So much for the cheeseburgers. But if we want to succeed with this, we have to make some lifestyle changes. I am scared that they will be harder to make than running. (Not really, I still hate every minute of running and only want to be faster so the torture is over quicker).
