It started maybe around 2 in the morning, the day of the race/run. The boy was crying in his room, in his crib, so I went in to check on him. The first thing that greeted me was the smell. He’d been sick in his crib, and it was all over the bed and his hair. It was the first time he’s ever been sick (except maybe spitting up when he was really little), and he was miserable and frightened. Wouldn’t you be, if you’d never experienced it before? He screwed up his little face, which turned bright red behind the tears, snot and vomit, as he screamed with fear and discomfort. Mommy’s comforting hug helped, but it didn’t take away the pain entirely.

Before it was through, he’d been sick 3 or 4 more times, and the smell was everywhere. We both finally got back to sleep an hour or so later, after a lot of tears and clean-up, etc.

It wasn’t an auspicious beginning to the day. What was I thinking, considering hauling the boy all the way out to Lafayette to sit in his jog stroller? Would I end up cleaning puke from the stroller, and the car, all day, rather than enjoying the run?

Long story short, I decided I’d rather regret taking him than regret staying home. As I drove to the race start, visions of the starts of races past — half-marathons, triathlons, 5Ks — danced through my head. We’d remembered to turn back the clocks, but it still seemed so early and quiet on a Sunday morning. It’s such an amazing feeling driving smoothly through quiet streets on the way to a race. I was so thrilled to be bringing the boy along with me. I think he caught some of the adrenaline in the air.

The run itself wasn’t so fantastic. I had to stop twice to get him into warmer clothes, as the autumn wind blows chilly even in the Bay Area. It was all along one of the town’s main drags, though the name of the run "Reservoir Run" had promised more natural vistas. And I wasn’t feeling too energetic. I hadn’t trained hardly at all, and I had a big Domino’s binge the night before the race (oh, boy. better not even mentioned). But I did run a decent amount of mile 2 (downhill) and felt like I at least got some much-needed exercise. We crossed the finish line in style, running strong.

After we finished, I let the boy out of his stroller and he ran around, getting such joy from things like stepping up and down curbs. Not to mention all the dogs, which he is crazy about. He’ll chase after a dog for miles. Ah, the joys of running. And family. And the amazing autumn weather. So glad we went…

We have family in town for a couple of weeks, which has meant lots more walking and informal exercise… but also lots more eating. Gotta nip that in the bud.

I’d inched up a little bit, weight-wise, but have now begun to inch down again. It’ll come. I know what I need to do.

It’s interesting how being around these two teenagers (my niece and nephew) have awakened in me all my feelings of adolescent inadequacy. They are absolutely everything I wasn’t as a teenager. The 14-year-old boy describes himself as "a natural athlete," and he is in really good shape. He’s handsome, he’s fit, and he’s quite arrogant. The 17-year-old girl is tall, around 5′10", and has a model’s figure. She’s confident in her body, and dresses stylishly, raiding Abercrombie and Fitch for lots of new togs, which she wears well. Hmm… obviously these are my relatives by marriage, because I feel like I share no blood with them at all.

It’s a little ridiculous, but I sometimes think about my adolescent self, and how she would never have been accepted by these two. I was chubby-to-fat, had no athletic inclinations, and kept my head , full of insecurities, buried in a book a lot of the time. But, then again, I had so much more going for me, and I still do, so why should their approval matter to me in the least? I suppose I’m just sad sometimes at how much time I wasted being insecure and self-doubting, when I’m really quite capable and should be more confident. Ah… you live and learn.

P.S. DietGirl has posted the most amazingly encouraging entry, aimed at all of us who get discouraged by the long weight-loss road ahead. Thanks, DG, for the lift in spirits.

Well, as usual I have hit a roadblock. When I first ordered the food delivery service, I was pissed off because they wouldn’t let me exclude certain foods (those with green/red/yellow peppers, which I hate). Well, they would let me exclude them, they just wouldn’t tell me which of their dishes had these ingredients, so I wasn’t able to pre-emptively avoid them. I had to order them, and receive them, and then discover they had the forbidden ingredients therein. Then I could avoid ordering them again. Totally lame.

Anyway, in a huff I called up to cancel the program. But I ended up liking the food, and very few items contained the yucky peppers. When I looked online it looked as if I was going to receive week 2 of food, and it allowed me to configure my choices for the week. So I got all psyched for the delivery of week 2… which never came, of course. It was just a very sucky online interface, not a failure to cancel my order.

So, all this to say that I’ve been eating on my own for about a week, and haven’t been doing so great. It’s crazy because I really have convinced myself that I’m incompetent and incapable of preparing food on my own that satisfies me and helps me lose weight. God, talk about negative self talk. I’m starting up the delivery service again tomorrow, I believe (just in time for guests to come in town for 2 weeks… but I’m sticking with it anyway!). So I’m excited about that.

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I haven’t mentioned my fitness breakthrough. I ran 1 mile straight on the treadmill, at 5.3 mph, this past weekend. Yippee! I mostly walked (all but 5 minutes more) of my 30 minute treadmill workout, but it was a huge milestone (yuk yuk) for me. I also entered a fun run (jog stroller friendly) for October 29. I’ll probably do the 2 mile distance and make my goal running the entire time. DH will probably have a soccer game that morning, so I actually signed up for Zipcar (car sharing service) so we can both transport ourselves (we only have 1 car) if our events overlap. So empowering, rather than sitting at home feeling sorry for myself because I don’t have a car. And the stroller-friendliness of the event means I can make it a fun outing for me and the boy.