10K

I went and signed up for a 10K next weekend.

The kids want to come this time (this time they have been given the option), except the 13-year-old, who doesn't want to deal with the craziness of all the other kids. And who can blame him.

This will mean I'll need to rouse my husband out of bed for my goofiness, which will definitely cost me some Paul Points.

I signed up for the 10K instead of the 5K because I see no evidence that this race has a chip timing system. It might, but I'm not sure. The last thing I need, psychologically, is to have a slower 5K time than my first race, and if there's no chip timing, that's exactly what will happen. So I'm doing a different distance. My goal, as always, will be to finish. I'm not going to mess with my head by coming up with any time goals.

Today's song of the day, or, more accurately, the weekend: "Reconsider Me" by Steve Earle. It's a Warren Zevon song. It was in "Californication," which is how I discovered it. I recognized Steve Earle, but not the song, right away. But, oh, the Internet saved me yet again. I haven't been so blown away by a song in a while.

Tiffany, after we talked about my love for "Californication" as well as my favorite (rather jerky) baseball player, A.J. Pierzynski: "Jeez -- You certainly have a thing for bad boys lately."

I'm into bad boys only in theory. From within the safety of my marriage. When they are on the screen or the baseball diamond and I'm not actually having to deal with them at all.

When I had unfettered access to them, I kept my distance. (Although sometimes I'd get surprised.)

I'm also not sure how well I'm going to respond to David Duchovny's cad character in Season 2 of "Californication" now that he's supposed to be in a relationship.

Exercise: I did calisthenics, but I wasn't able to get out the door to run today. Too much craziness.

'Adult-onset' runners

Marion Winik on people who start running later in life:

"We like the obsessive rituals required, the narcissistic routines that make our heads feel different inside. We do it because it is not working, it is not raising children, it is not being nice and helpful to other people. It is that other thing we so very much love: It is flight. It is escape. It is going going gone. We could just as well be at the crack house as on the hike and bike trail; who would know?"

Amen.

She so has it. My going going gone has been food. Or driving. Or reading.

Food wasn't so good for me. Driving was a bit neutral. Reading has been wonderful.

But running is also great, in a way I never expected. It's actually good for my health, not just my mind. I never expected to get obsessive, even though that's where I take most things. It's a wonderful substitute for the not-so-healthy obsessions.

Spouses and weight

The thing about being fat is that it's not something you can be shamed, at least not directly, into doing something about.

My husband didn't try. He's smart enough to know better. Plus, that's just not our relationship. We were old enough when we got married that we saw the folly in trying to change the other. He's always liked my independence and appreciates that he has his. We also don't see the other as having the key to our personal happiness -- that has to come from ourselves.

Paul understood that it's challenging for me to keep weight off when I'm pregnant a lot and taking care of young children. At the same time, I knew he wasn't delighted when I put on weight, even though we didn't really talk about the issue. We have talked about it since. (He thinks I could stop losing weight right now, though, even though I still feel the need to hit the 100-pound mark.) He's someone who has never struggled with his weight. But he was never critical or mean. Being critical or mean wouldn't have exactly been encouraging anyway.

In some ways, it was harder on him when I started losing weight. I got more assertive. But that's also more like I was before the kids came. He liked that then, and he likes it now again -- even though it was a shock when that woman first reappeared.

Running: I did five miles today with no timer and no music. I took it easy and my knee behaved.

5 miles, 60 minutes

This morning, I was feeling a little muscle soreness from kicking and sprinting yesterday -- definitely things I don't normally do.

So, I figured I'd better run right away before it got any worse.

I didn't check my timer at all during the run -- and I stopped a couple of times to mess with my knee -- and that seems to be a good strategy for me. I enjoy running more when I accept my slowness and don't try to monitor it.

My perfectionist tendencies tend to make me want to give up completely rather than to appear to be trying and fall short. I usually am very good at something or I don't do it. Hence, my unwillingness to exercise much during my life. So running for running's sake is a good trend for me.

Music news: The Jonas Brothers' cover of Shania Twain's "Gonna Getcha Good" is here. It's so surreal, it's great. It's on my running playlist now.

Carole King's "I Feel the Earth Move" also has made my playlist. That was the lead song in a mixtape (remember those?) that a shy guy I ended up dating made for me right before we got together. Two years later, our breakup mixtape is the one that basically ruined U2 for me.

My 13-year-old, who came along and saved U2, bought me a musical gift: "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd. Which is not so good for running. But it was sweet of him.

Desperation

A lot of the homeschooling friends were talking about my diet today at the park.

I'm not at all into converting people, and I try to make that clear. I do have a little group of friends who have gone on the plan in a variety of forms, but I did absolutely nothing to encourage it. Other than going from looking horrible to looking OK, that is.

I don't think I ever would have given up sugar, wheat and flour if I thought I had any choice in the matter.

Exercise: I did a little exercise class with a homeschooling dad today. It was basically kicking and running.

Fat woman fantasies

When I was heavy and I thought about being thinner, I had (at least) one misconception.

In my "What if I were thin" fantasy, I thought that I'd be able to wear whatever clothes I wanted. Because, after all, thin people can just pull things off the rack and they'll fit and look good.

The reality, of course, is that that's nowhere near true. (And I wouldn't, of course, say I'm "thin" now, but in a relative sense, I'm much closer.)

When I was younger and found clothes I wanted to wear but couldn't, I blamed my weight. And unfairly so. Some of that, of course, comes from the immaturity factor. I'm generally pretty rational and not prone to too much emotionality, but I was nowhere near objective about weight issues. And, I was fighting my body, rather than accepting it.

Yesterday, though, I had some time to do my shallow but nonetheless fun exercise of seeing what will fit and trying to figure out what looks good. And I realized something (thank you, also, "What Not to Wear"!): Everyone has to do this, not just me. There's no one who looks good wearing everything. While I envy the clothes that tiny women can wear; they envy the things that I can pull off.

And it's all so silly, this longing to be different than we are -- because no one's set up is ideal. I envy women who can wear skimpy tops; they envy my long jeans.