Saturday, August 2, 2008

Why Did the Boiled Chicken Breast Cross the Road?


Exhilarating. Inspirational. Empowering.  Often, a long run is all of these rolled into one magical ball.  Not so today.  At mile 13.75 I wanted to cry, and I probably would have if I wasn't so concerned with staying hydrated.  The mile and a quarter to home seemed impossibly far away. 

Adding insult to injury was the vanity check in the Seminary building's glass door--it's really not fair that this flat stomach thing is largely genetic (this according to some flat-bellied, defined-abbed writer for Oxygen magazine--yes, I tore out the article 3 years ago and am holding on to it in case I ever get motivated enough to live solely on 3 oz. of plain boiled chicken breast each day)....
  
It's also not fair that after burning 1200 calories and already feeling defeated, I have to look at my reflection in a glass door and have two love handles waving back at me.*  This problem could be easily and instantly solved, I suppose, by wearing a shirt that is loose at the bottom...I'll look into that.  Then there's the obvious solution:  stop looking in glass doors.  Or, when looking at my reflection in glass doors, focus only on my good points.  These are solutions I can live with as they don't require me to cut all the crappy food out of my diet.  Of course, they also only mask the real issue that will still be lurking there beneath my shirt and in my blind spot....
 
These were the distractions of thought that allowed me to get my rubbery legs home where I can sit at the computer and compose a cathartic blog post while sipping my favorite cappuccino-flavored recovery drink.  Ahhh...feeling better already.  And it's almost time for me to meet the girls for a birthday lunch!  Hurray.

*Disclaimer:  lest you all fear I have image problems, stop fretting.  I DON'T THINK I'M FAT. If any of you think otherwise, keep your thoughts to yourselves because I don't need your skewed vision in my life.   
 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Lunch....yummy. So good to see you...and your "love handles" (as if)