I’ve had to face an uncomfortable fact today.

I don’t know if Nathan and I can run this half-marathon together.

He is willing to run at my pace, but when I run with him my pace isn’t MY pace. Does that make any sense? I guess I don’t know what my pace is. When I have to think about it, I just don’t know what my pace is. It just comes naturally when I’m alone.

We ran together today. I thought I could run a short 2-mile run at his pace. 1 mile into his pace and I thought I was going to die. I haven’t been that out of breath for months. I thought that maybe it was good for me – that pushing myself would help me be a better runner. 1.25 miles into our run, on a long flat stretch, I bailed. I just couldn’t do it. We were running an 11-minute mile. My fastest mile before that was 11:30. I tend to hover around 12:15 when I’m alone.

But I’m not experienced enough to know what that feels like. I just fall into it. When I’m alone.

So I bailed. Stood on the sidewalk for a while, watching Nathan run away (at my absolute insistence). Then I ran back home. Finished the 2-mile plan. At a 12:00 pace. And I felt like I had pushed myself.

I don’t know what to do. He wants to run the half with me. To show support. To be with me. So I won’t be alone. And I want him to run with me. I just don’t know if we can.

But I don’t know if I can run it with him. I don’t know if I will be able to know my pace. And I don’t know if he can run it with me – if he would be able to hold back to my pace. If that would be frustrating for him.

I want to run with him. I want to be able to run with him. But I don’t know if I can. Not yet.

I sure do love him, though.

So I haven’t exactly followed my running schedule this week. I’ve just had another off week. Working out? Mostly. Running? Not since Tuesday.

I decided to do the long run that I missed – 4 miles – and then we’d do the 6 mile scheduled run on Monday. A day behind schedule. But it would be okay.

We decided to run separately. I procrastinated a little after Nate left. But I walked out the door and found a beautiful cover of snow. Not enough to stick on the sidewalk, just enough to make everything pretty. And set Jake the iPod to the newest episode of Two Fit Chicks, and had This American Life as the back-up. I started to run.

And I ran. And ran.

1 mile. 2 miles. 3 miles. 4 miles. 5 miles.

When I heard I had completed 5 miles, I found myself at the bottom of a hill. A hill that has always scared me.

So I ran up it. I ran down. I ran home. My longest run yet.

How was the pace? Not great. But I don’t care.

It was comfortable. I struggled up the hills, but I recovered well and got back to a comfortable place. It was great.

For the first time, I feel like this half-marathon thing is really possible. Like it’s not just a dream. Like I’m really gonna do it. And it freaks me out a little.

I’m a runner. It’s becoming part of who I am. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this.

Or maybe you do.

I need to tie this in with my trip to the dentist. But first I need to shower.

To be continued, I guess.

Yeah, so we all know I have issues.

I feel really strange in my body again. I realize it’s part PMS ( has it seriously been a month already?), but I’m a mess.

I try on jeans. I find jeans that fit. I am floored by their size. (and that Gap had short in stock.) But in my head? One thought.

"Girl, who are you trying to fool?"

I feel like I’m pretending. Like I’m not really the girl who could walk into the mall and just buy a pair of jeans. Like I’m not really the girl who doesn’t have to say a prayer that the largest size a store carries will fit.

Even now, looking in the mirror, all I see is the muffin top that may or may not really be there. I see wide thighs that are out of porportion. I see a waist that i devalue because it shows how much fat I carry in my stomach. I’m so much more critical than I was 50 pounds ago.

I know KNOW that is bullshit. I know I am thinner. I know I look great.

But why don’t I feel that way?

And why am I focusing on how I look anyway? I’ve tried so hard to focus on what I can control – running, eating – and less on results – the scale, clothes. But now that I’m busting out the results, I’m full of self-doubt and criticism.

Can I blame all of this on my uterus? Will I go back to my normal, logical self in a few days? Until then? Just pass me a piece of fruit and some more coffee. I’ll just ride this out.

I will make you a promise.

From this moment forward, I will run with either Nathan or my cell phone.

So let me tell you about my run.

It’s chilly but not cold. I set my iPod to This American Life and 5 miles. And I’m off. It’s still daylight. The snow is mostly gone off the sidewalks. I feel good.

The episode I’m listening to is about Bait and Switch. About how people can be gullible and get caught up in things and have a hard time getting out of them. I make note of a Suburban I’ve seen a few times. He has stopped at a stop sign and has a yellow legal pad in his hand. But it’s a neighborhood. Hard telling what he’s doing. I cross the street, make sure he’s not following me, and keep running. Not long after that, I pass Nathan. We chat and run past each other.

And I keep running. I’m doing well. Nice stride. It’s easy. Feels really good.

I’m running on the sidewalk. I see a lady about a block in front of me, walking her dog. It’s about dusk. She yells and waves at me. There’s a guy over there in the greenspace – a little area that goes downhill between the road and a trail. She tells me she’s already called 911 and asks me to stay and make sure she’s okay. The guy is crawling in the grass. There is still snow in the grass. She ties her dog to a lightpole (asking me not to come near her- she’s jumpy), calls her husband to come, and walks toward the man. She keeps asking if he’s hurt or if he needs help. He doesn’t say anything.

And I’m standing there watching. With nothing. No cell phone. No running partner. Nothing. Watching her. Watching her dog.

The guy wasn’t bleeding. He looked confused. I could hear sirens in the distance. I never felt unsafe.

Until the lady’s husband pulled up. The guy in the Surburban. With the yellow legal pad.

At that point, I started to freak out a little. Tried to figure out which way out was the least uphill in case I had to run. The lady rejoined her dog and the husband went to physically help the man in the grass. He helped him to his feet just as the police arrived. The man in the grass got in the back of the cruiser, appeared grateful to help, as police cars and fire trucks and ambulances continued to pour onto my little running street.

I made eye contact with the lady from across the street. She waved, yelled, “thank you!” and I wished her and her dog Maxine an uneventful rest of the night.

And away I ran. Like I wasn’t in the middle of some drama involving lights and sirens. I was worried that Nathan would hear them from wherever he was in the area and worry about me. Getting home as soon as I could was what I was focused on.

I don’t know what I would have done if I had been the one to spot the man. Or if the other lady wasn’t there. If it weren’t for her, I would have seen him. Without question. I guess I would have knocked on someone’s door and asked for help to help the man. Even if I had a phone with me, other than calling 911, I don’t know what I would have done.

I tell myself it’s because I was listening to stories of people making small decisions that endangered them. But I’m not sure that’s the case.

Moral of the story? A phone or a running partner. Preferably both.

Amen.

Okay. So I’m back on from last week. Woo woo!

Food? On target. Exercise? Check.

Now if I can just keep my toothache/jawpain under control until my dentist appointment on Thursday…

Ugly, ugly, ugly.

Alright, let me make sure you know what you’re looking at. This is my food log weekly graph. The goal line is 1200 calories. Green means good. Red show how far over goal I went. (And the “over weekly budget” number is before today is factored in.)

The good? I counted every bite. Every single bite. I didn’t leave out what embarrassed me.

The bad? Dude, just look at it.

The ugly? Will be determined when I hop on the scale in the morning.

The why? Easy. I didn’t plan. I ate what I pulled out of the freezer or what sounded good at the time. And since I didn’t follow my eating plan, I really didn’t follow my running plan either.

Blah, blah, blah.

The moral of the story? Plan, Krissie. When I plan, I succeed.

What I’m doing about it? The plan is made. The grocery list is made. I will shop on my way home from work tomorrow.

Cook. Pack lunches. Run. Repeat.

Amen.

What are the keys to your success? Do you get easily distracted just like me? How hard is it for you to just get back on?

***********************************************************************************

And I’m looking for recipes for next week! What’s your favorite go-to recipe? I want to make it!

I’m cross-posting this on my food log blog as well.

(I just LOVE “food log blog” and “run log blog” because they remind me of Bob Loblaw!)

Focus, Krissie. Focus.

So I am a planner. I plan my menus every week, and I try to have a theme. We had a “Martha Stewart FOOD” week, and a “Throwback Week” and a “Cooking Light Week.” This coming week will come from a magazine I bought at Fresh Market.

And I’m asking you for help for the week after (the week I will plan next weekend). I want to have a “Readers Suggest” week.

So what should I cook?

I’m interested in what some of your favorite recipes are. I’m looking for recipes you have already tried – that you know are tasty. I’d prefer they be healthy (of course), but I’ll do my best to make a healthier version of any favorites. I also prefer recipes that don’t require a lot of hands-on time. I’m fine with baking time or cooking time, but prefer not more than 30 minutes of hands-on time. Nutritional info isn’t necessary because I always figure it out myself. I don’t always follow recipes closely, so I figure it out based on the ingredients I actually use. (And if you’re sending me a recipe based on a recipe from somewhere else, let me know so I can give credit there.)

And my promise if I choose your recipe? I’ll shoot you a link (if you have one) and I’ll show step-by-step process photos on the food log blog.

Shoot me what you would like to see as a comment here or on the food log blog or in an email. I’ll make a few next week and I’ll keep the others bookmarked in case of another readers suggests week!

I can’t wait to hear your favorites!

Yeah. So I’ve not been honest with myself the last few days. How?

I haven’t been feeling great. Tummy hasn’t been happy. I assumed that my eating was not on plan because I wasn’t feeling well. In reality? It was probably more the other way around – my tummy wasn’t happy because of what I was eating. All the sugar. Pizza for lunch yesterday. Nothing that resembled a veggie. Nothing like I had been eating for a while. No wonder my digestive system has been rebelling. It doesn’t like me! And I’m not being very nice. I’m glad I realized this before I went for more than 2 days of “off” eating.

I was feeling munchy today. I went into the gift shop and bought 3 mini Reese cups. Why? They were just little chocolates. If they’re just little and I don’t take a picture of them, they wouldn’t count. I liked this logic so much that I went and bought 3 more. I might as well have eaten 2 full-sized Reese cups. I’d never do that! But, in my mind, it all made some warped sense at the time.

I was really wanting to eat when I got home. Nathan gets out the chips and guacamole. It was gonna take 15 minutes for the pasta to cook for dinner. I convinced myself that I couldn’t wait that long. So I ate chips. My justification? I was just eating chips, not the guacamole. (And then I had a handful of granola. And several bites of leftover pasta. And extra cheese. No real justification for that.) But really? Two lies in one! I was completely able to wait AND the reason I didn’t eat the guacamole was a little brown for my liking.

Once I take a step back, it’s shocking how quickly I can mislead myself – how easily I can fall right back into old patterns. I’ve been reminded how important my plans and routines are.

And I’m stopping the lies right here. I ate 1/2 of my dinner because I was full. And as soon as dinner settles, I’m off for a run. Then I’ll plan out tomorrow’s eating so I’ll know.

So when did you lie to yourself today? What did you justify? Does your perspective change when you back away and really think about it?

No posts on the other blogs. I’m calling in sick. It’s been a yucky tummy day.

But I discovered today that it’s time for me to move on.

I need a new ring. Just in time for Valentine’s Day!

I started with these beauties that are now tucked away in a pretty little bag, waiting to be resized.

Then I moved on to Nathan’s engagement ring. Yes, it’s elvish. And smaller than my wedding rings.

Today I noticed that it is officially too big (as I fished it out of my office trash can). I’m wearing it on my middle finger now. So I’m shopping for a new temporary wedding ring.

I have several options. I’m sharing with you.

The first is the one I want but I feel bad for wanting. Because, as you know, I am a brand whore. But isn’t she beautiful?

Oh, my friends, there’s more.

My love for etsy is almost as strong as my love for Tiffany.

This one is completely different. Earthy. Engraved on the inside. It would house the title of this post which is a line from a Peter Gabriel song we love.

And then there’s the incredibly simple. Classic, comfortable, titanium.

But wait! Next there’s the variation on a prior theme. This is in Hebrew. “I am my beloved’s and he is mine.”

I also think these coin rings are beautiful. But I haven’t found any that are either for our home state or from the year we were married. I think that would be cool. And I’m sure the artist could make one of my two desires happen if I decided to go with this one.

this little pretty just calls out to me.

And then there’s the part of me that would love to carry our actual wedding date on the band. This one looks so…homemade. I love it.

So all this shopping later and I’m no closer to picking out my present. Maybe I’ll just let Nathan decide. I’m sure he’d be open to your suggestions. And he reads the comments.

6.5, baby. Just so you know.

(Nathan is singing “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday.” I won’t tell you why. I’ll leave just this up to embarrass him. Blog abuse! Blog abuse!)

It’s been an off day. Work has been really hard for two days. I’m frustrated that February isn’t shaping up the way I wanted it to. Nate’s dad was here for the evening and my schedule was off. Didn’t make time for the scheduled run. But it’s okay. Life happens.

I want to show you something.

But first, my favorite moment of the past weekend. FatBridesmaid came to visit. I was trying on clothes in a vintage shop and I didn’t want to try things on because I didn’t think they would fit.

Me: I have some body awareness issues.

FB: I know. I read your blog.

I love her. And that she knows me.

But that’s made me think. I do have issues. I haven’t caught up with myself. So last night, when I was changing into my workout gear, I made myself really look in the full-length mirror. And I tried to admit to what I see. I am starting to have a waist. My hips are smaller. I may think my proportions are distorted, but my body is still changing. Sometimes I may not feel different, but I am.

And this is me. Today. In the horrible lighting of the hospital bathroom. This is me. I look not as fat. Maybe even not fat. And I’m still getting used to that.

But you already knew that. You read my blog.