Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Two Things

You might despise me just a wee bit for this first one. Feel free.

Okay, so a couple of months ago I ran the Pikes Peak Marathon, for which I had to train very hard. Most weeks I was running upwards of sixty miles per week, and some of those weeks, being all sick from heartbreak and all, I was eating, um, not much of anything but saltines. And also drinking Kool-Aid. (I credit Kraft Foods, distrubutors of these and other fine products, for keeping me alive during that time.) Before I traveled to Colorado to run, I weighed myself, just to see. I then went on an eating spree that consisted mainly of fudge, cheeseburgers (many with bacon and more than one kind of cheese), and copious amounts of bleu cheese salad dressing. I ran the marathon, I came home, I took a week off of running. I started to eat a bit more normally (read: mostly chocolate and chocolate related products, with big glasses of milk thrown in for good measure) and eased back into running. By eased, I mean: I run when I feel like it and stop when I feel like I'm done. I've started walking most of my errands, but still my weekly mileage hasn't topped thirty miles--less than half of what I was running before, and I am consuming a lot more calories than the days when I was at my worst. In fact, last night for dinner I ate six cream cheese brownies without batting an eyelash. I've been putting enough half & half and sugar in my coffee to both clog my arteries and acquire type II diabetes. It hasn't been pretty. I've been sure I must have gained a fair bit of weight since Heartbreak and Pikes Peak Diet 2005, and I thought I might need to lay off the chocolates. So today, in an effort to give myself a reason to eat a little better, I decided to get on the scales. And they read...two pounds more than before Pikes Peak. Seriously. I'm a freak of nature. I shrugged my shoulders, breathed a prayer of thanks, and took that as my cue to go have a few fun size Snickers.

Okay, now Thing Two:

The rules of Mary's keys are that no child is allowed to touch said keys, lest they become lost and we are stuck in the house forever and ever amen (a true tragedy in which we all would die of the combined evils of boredom and too many electronic toys that make hideous noises--you can guess who is dying from what). Jack is great about leaving them alone, but Mary Liz seems to have magnets in her fingertips, and the moment the keys are within reach, her little paws are making their way towards their intended prey.

Today while I was in another room, I heard Mary Liz pick up the keys and begin to jangle them. She paused to examine the heart (a small tag on which I've inscribed my first name and cell number in case of loss) and asked Jack, "What does this heart say?"

Without looking up, Jack replied, "It says, 'LEAVE MARY'S KEYS ALONE!'"

Spot on, kiddo. Spot. On.

No comments: