50 minutes

I got 50 minutes in today. Only 48 of those minutes were running, though. I walked at the 40-minute mark for two minutes and then ran the rest of the way home.

The inaugural run with the new shoes worked well. My toes don't hurt at all, and I wasn't worried about them while I was out there.

New shoes

OK, I've been talked into getting new running shoes.

It was on the agenda, of course.

I first went to my running shoe store about six months ago, got intimidated and left. I wasn't running yet, but I was doing the class with the trainer. I bought my shoes at the Sport Chalet instead.

Top to Top is totally the place to go whenever I start feeling too good. Or talking to too many fawning moms. The teeny 20-something salesclerk took one look at me and said, "So, you go out once in a while casually. ... or, uh, are you training for something?"

Then I told her that I'd run 20 miles the week before, but I'm not training for anything.

After I told her that and she looked at the way I walk, she brought out these (and a few others), and I went with the Saucony ones.

They weren't super-expensive. I do have a good-size check coming in soon, though, so I could splurge.

They're pretty narrow, which I need, but there is enough room at the toe. I plan on keeping my toenails.

Being lazy

I only got in a 30-minute run today.

I have all kinds of excuses, of course.

First, I think my shoes are too short. It was OK when I was running for five miles a week. Last week, when I'm estimating I did about 20, it caused problems. I'm getting little bruises under my nails, and I'm guessing that's from the toes pushing too hard against the front of the shoe.

Second, I spent the day yesterday at a friend's house in Corona. With her cats. My cat allergy messes with my breathing a little for a day or two after an exposure. So I was struggling more on the path today.

It was too bad because the weather was great -- cool and damp.

I had other excuses, but I've forgotten them by now.

Unrecognizable

I saw one of my editors, whom I haven't seen in person in a couple of years, today.

He told Paul that he wouldn't have recognized me.

I think it's funny that it's almost invariably men who either a) don't recognize me or b) say that.

Women can tell it's me.

Treats

Paul got a box of candy from a relative for his birthday.

In a note, the relative wrote: "We're so proud of Kathleen. She should have some of these as a treat."

Uh, no.

Here are my treats: Nice salt on my food, green tea made by someone else (although I gave up coffee shops for Lent), a yummy dessert of fruit and unsweetened yogurt and cinnamon, sparkling water, a latte or cappuccino, a flavorful oil. Those are my rewards of food and drink.

Other rewards: Time with a book, a hot bath, some alone time with Paul, new clothes in a smaller size.

I can so do without candy.

Glowing

I've been getting the teasing "Are you pregnant?" question a lot lately. "You're glowing," my silly friends say. It has to be from the nutrition and the exercise.

I tell them that I don't think so -- but I'm Catholic, so I don't know for sure that I'm not pregnant.

I'm joking, of course.

Paul says I can't get pregnant and keep him sane, too, so I won't. Get pregnant, that is. I'm not as worried about it as he is. For one, having healthier habits makes it easier for me to tell when I'm fertile and have to be careful. For another, it's oftentimes hard for women who are my age who are trying to get pregnant to do so.

I do love babies, and that was a wonderful part of my life, but it has passed. So, no, I'm not pregnant. I enjoy holding other people's babies -- and also doing all the many things I couldn't do when my kids were littler.