Three Things Thursday: Things that make me sad

Workout: Modified "30 Day Shred" level 1 and 1.75-mile walk with Denali

1. For 28 weeks, I've been able to boastfully tell people that I feel fantastic when they ask how I'm doing. And, oh no. No, I haven't been sick - no nausea or vomiting. Just didn't like coffee for awhile.

Yeah ... about that. The past couple days, well, I haven't been feeling so hot. I haven't been throwing up but I've been feeling off. Like I don't want to eat. While I can't pinpoint a particular time of day or reason, I notice it most after I have something sugary. Yesterday, it was after my gas station hot chocolate, prompting me to eat lunch 1.5 hours late, and again after some s'mores flavored mini rice cakes.

I am going to try to limit my processed sugar intake over the next few days to see if it helps with this blah feeling. So sad because I like sweets so much. In moderation, of course.

2. On my 'mill run yesterday, I finished "Chasing Harry Winston" on audiobook. I was so not ready for it to be over. Written by the same gal who wrote "The Devil Wears Prada" and "Everyone Worth Knowing" (Laura Weisberger), it was the right amount of funny, sexy and smart and only a little bit too chick lit.

My next pick: "Little Bee" by Chris Cleave. It came highly recommended by mother-in-law and (hopefully) is the right balance of engaging and smart. After back-to-back chick lit, I'm ready for something a bit heavier.

3. I worked in food service all throughout high school and college and I spent another 5 years after college (part-time) as a server. I know the business and I know the importance of good customer service. So I can't help but be irked when people fail to listen and properly execute an order. Despite my goal in No. 1, I headed to the coffee shop for a fruit smoothie splash of vitamin C.

"Do you want whip cream?" the girl asked.

"Oh, no," I said, shaking my head.

She went to the back and after a conversation about Best Buy's recycling policy and a few too many minutes later, she returned with my smoothie. Topped with whipped cream.

OK, maybe I'm not so sad about that after all.

Morning minutes

Workout: 3.0-mile “run” on the treadmill (run 0.75 mile/walk 0.25 – repeat 3 times)

The truth hurts. It does. And sometimes right in the gut.

Hot chocolate from the gas station isn’t always a wise idea, no matter how good you think it will taste.

The idea of purchasing scented deodorant, while perusing Target, might seem innocent enough but come application, your pregnant nose will hate you – all. day. long.

A small piece of a blueberry-blackberry tart is entirely appropriate morning fare because it is, well, fruit. Sort of like toast and jam … except not.

In a matter of a week or two, running has gone from OK to sort of craptastic, even with the intervals. A bit disappointing even though I accomplished my goal of going out during the third trimester. I’m sort of hoping I can suck it up till 30 weeks.

If this kid does not stop kicking me, I am going to boot him across the room come delivery day. I swear he is going to be a certified Tae Bo instructor by the time he makes debut.

And while many pregnant ladies revel in all the movement, I find it sort of creepy to watch my stomach move as I lay in the tub. (Yes, taking a bath is one of many pregnancy rules I break.)

I am a wimp. I ran in sleet, snow, rain, ice last year. Today it was in the 40s and windy so I hauled it to the gym so I could run on the treadmill. Well for that reason and so I could go sans Denali and Mark (who has a personal day today).

I was too cranky busy this morning to pack my lunch and I’m now pondering which dining establishment will receive part of my grandma’s birthday money. The hospital cafeteria, which always has mac and cheese? The co-op? Or how ’bout the place with the famous grilled cheese? I just don’t know. Only the shadow does.

What’s your truth for the day?

On the Wild side

Workout: Jillian Michaels “30-Day Shred,” Level 1. Anything on the floor was subbed out for extra bicep curls, tricep exercise and shoulder raises.

I am so smart. Acknowledging that my legs were sore for a good three days after last week’s attempt at “30-Day Shred,” I decided to give it another go today. A day before a planned run. It’s not that I haven’t run on sore legs before but it should just add injury to insult.

A look at our weather:

Boo!

Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s talk about something a little more fun. Like my breakfast.

This morning, I paid homage to the Surfer Girl omelet I had at Wild Eggs in Louisville in October.

God, how I miss drinking that much caffeine!

I was in no mood to make an omelet so I opted to go real crazy and make an egg sandwich. Notice I said “egg” and not “egg white” – off the chain.

Here’s what I did:

Put a bit of canola oil and butter in the pan, until it was hot. Threw in two slices of light whole-wheat bread to grill (way better than toasting). When one side of each piece was looking good, I flipped one over to grill the other side and put the other one on top to make room for the egg. Cracked an egg into the skillet. While that was cooking, diced up some avocado, sliced a tomato and got out the sprouts. Grill the second side of the other piece of bread and flip the egg. Blot grease from egg and top with slice of cheese. Take slice of bread that’s grilled on both sides and top with avocado, smooshing it with a fork. Add tomato slices and sprouts (I used broccoli because that’s what we had). Put over-hard egg on top and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Top with other piece of bread. If you are going crazy, schmear top piece with reduced fat mayo before topping the sandwich. (Call me Paula Deen because it’s true - I do believe mayo makes a lot of things taste better. )

P.S. If you scrambled the egg or did whites, you could easily toss in some spinach and get a bit closer to the Surfer Girl omelet.

Phew! What a long-winded way of saying, “Hey! Why don’t you try topping your egg sandwich with tomatoes, smooshed avocado, sprouts and mayo?”

What did you have for breakfast today?

30 rocks

Workout: 2.3-mile walk with Denali

Watch out, 30 … I’m coming after you!

Are you scared? Because you … well … shouldn’t be. I attacked my 30th birthday like any pregnant lady would … with a virgin Strawberry Colada.

Mark took me to one of my fave fancy-schmancy restaurants last night, a spot he took me to for our one-year dating anniversary a bajillion years ago. Or 4. Whatev. I’m old and can no longer count.

I looked so cute in my non-maternity Old Navy dress (size medium) that I decided to show you two photos. Not. I just thought you’d want a belly shot and I could satisfy that while blinding you with my ghostly legs.

My husband, unlike me, did look quite dashing and full of color. Especially as he perused the wine list.

Taunting me every which way, I tell you. He ordered a glass of Cabernet (of which I took a sip – YUM) and went onto debating appetizers. Crab cakes or mushrooms? Tuna, which I can’t eat, or coffee-crusted filet?

Or … how about lump crab and shrimp cocktail?

Yes. PLEASE!

It was tasty, as was the restaurant’s famous salad bar. I loaded my (unpictured) plate with veggies, strawberries and Jelly Belly jelly beans. How could I not? I did skip the caviar and sardines.

For dinner, I had a mediocre sirloin. Mediocre because I had to ask for it medium well and then they cooked it well.

I ate half and about half of the potato. Yes, I ate a potato. Sue me. I figured Jesus would forgive me of my Lenten indiscretion for my 30th birthday.

Mark had surf and turf and was nice enough to let me try his lobster tail. Another YUM!

By the time the server asked about dessert, we were stuffed. And I was tired. It was 8 p.m. and I’m pregnant, after all. All I wanted to do was wind down with “The Amazing Race” and go to bed. Thankfully, Mark understood and drove me home.

Sock it to me

Workout: 3.49-mile run

When you dream about your efforts to unearth your running socks from the laundry basket, it might be time for you to actually get out there and run.

I hadn't run since Monday, and I was definitely ready to get out there today. Just ask Mark - I've been a royal not-nice lady since Thursday. Thank goodness I always have hormones to blame.

My goal was 3.0 miles for my ::cough, cough:: 30th birthday today. Knowing that Mark hasn't been on the "distance" bandwagon and knowing that I wanted to run my favorite section of the Greenway (a 3.5-mile trip), we decided to go with a run/walk - running a half-mile and recovering for a tenth of a mile. My ego wasn't a big fan of this idea but I have to say that it did feel quite nice to get an active "breather" during the run and helped me to feel stronger during the running portion.

Of course, I would have been unstoppable (ha!) had the wind not been blowing like it was going out of style. I swear that no matter what direction we ran, the wind was right in our face. I even wrote a song about it: I hate the wind. Yes, I do. I hate the wind. Yeah-eah. The worst part about the wind, though, wasn't the feeling of running in place. Oh, no. It was that the run was otherwise such a beautiful one - full sun, mild-ish temps (40 degrees) and signs of spring all along the riverbank.

I will say that the wind did die down the last half-mile or so and I returned home sufficiently sweaty ... and happy, rejuvenated and more like myself than I have for days.

Do you get cranky if you have had a slight running hiatus?