How the mighty have fallen

Move that body: 3.28-mile run

My run, it just wasn’t meant to be today.

This morning, just before heading out, Miles swung his arm and knocked a glass from the counter and straight to the floor. On the way down … BAM!

Glass.

Hit.

Foot.

Ouch.

Hurt.

I was worried for a moment that it would be broken or I’d forever walk with a limp but it’s barely bruised. Good thing for Mark, I was going to blame him. (You don’t think I’d blame the baby, do you?)

Then there was Denali.

Sweet old Denali. I bet you think I’ve forgotten about him. Yeah, he probably thinks the same thing, too.

Anyway … we could barely get started before he had to go to the bathroom. This happened three times. THREE.

And then there was the fall. And I’m not talking about the glorious event that turns my street into a beautiful show of gold and red. Nope. I’m talking about somebody – I’m not naming names … because there are no names to name – making me trip about a half-mile in. I’m not quite sure what happened but I think my left ankle turned, causing me to fall on the right side of my body at which point I flipped onto my back.

It. Hurt.

A lot.

I paused my Garmin (duh) and laid there on the sidewalk for a minute … or three. It was funny – a number of cars drove by and not one stopped to see if I was OK. I don’t know – it just seemed sad to me.

I managed to get up, walk a bit and realized I could run home to clean up before finishing up my run.

My only real injuries were some road rash and a knock to my pride.

Good news, though, my BIC band didn’t budge through out the ordeal. I’m not sure they will want to use that as a marketing strategy but couldn’t hurt. Ha! Couldn’t hurt. Get it?

OK. I’m going to go watch “Dexter” now and keep my bad jokes to myself.

How is your weekend shaping up.

Love it or hate it: Miles edition

This might make me a complete weirdo but I absolutely love taking Miles to the doctor. I love hearing about how much weight he has gained, how tall he is getting and finding out just how healthy he is. I think all of the information provides me with some validation as a mother.

Today, we went to see Dr. Kebler (whom I inevitably call Dr. Keebler at least once each visit) for Miles’ 4-month appointment.


Yep, that little guy is 4 months old.



I just love seeing how big he is getting! He was 12 pounds, 7 ounces today and has more than doubled his birth weight. He’s a very healthy guy, I was told.



Lungs especially. We were treated to “I am possessed by the devil” screaming and writhing that accompanies lying him down on the table and the shots.

But let's talk about Miles at 4 months.

He loves sitting up. Lying down and being cradled is for newborns and he is an infant.

He loves bath time. He's learning to kick his legs and splash in the whale tub. He hates getting out of the tub and the time it takes to walk from the bathroom to the bedroom and get some clothes on.

He loves being on his activity mat ... for about 5 minutes and then he hates it.

He loves it when Denali chases his tail and flops on the floor, it elicits the cutest little squeals and giggles. He hates it when Denali barks.

He loves putting his hand - yes, his whole hand - in his mouth. He also loves to drool. I'm pretty sure the two are related.

He still loves Mommy and her boobs even though he's a total champ with the bottle and practically holds it himself now.

He loves story time and reaching for the books. He hates that he can't quite manage to get the whole thing in his mouth (see above).

 

Sadly, he also loves TV ... womp, womp. Mommy hates that.

What are you loving ... and hating this fine Friday?

Weighing in: So long, sucka

Move that body: 2-point-something mile run and 20 minutes pilates

I said good bye to my friend, today.

I was not sad.

I was glad to see her go, actually.

After all, I spent what seems like 3 months trying to get rid of her.

I think I should celebrate … with some ice cream. Or, better yet, a pedicure. My feet are looking crazy now that I’m running more miles. Probably how I kicked that friend to the curb, anyway.

Blogger’s note: Be glad I’m not like other bloggers and thus too lazy to get off the couch and grab the camera to take a picture of my feet.

Weighing-in rundown

Weight loss this week: 0.8 pound

Pounds till WW goal: 1

Pounds till pre-baby weight: 11

Pounds till I can fit into my cords that are now required as it SNOWED today: ??

What’s working this week: Miles. More miles. I think the week’s total was 18.

What’s not working: I already told you – snacking. Carb-heavy snacking.

Goals for the week: Pick up some snacks that don’t involve carbs when I go to the grocery. You know, things like vegetables and salsa.

Viva la resistance

My goal is two resistance workouts a week and, well, I sort of accomplished that. I did an intermittent upper body workout. By intermittent I mean doing weights for about a minute at a time at which point Miles screamed forcing me to stop and pop that God send of a pacifier back in his mouth. This morning, I did do 20 minutes of pilates – 10 minutes focusing on the abs and 10 minutes on the butt.

How are you doing with your resistance training? Did it snow where you live?

What I Ate Wednesday: Snack on this

Move that body: Intermittent upper body workout

I had a bowl of cereal for breakfast this morning. A mix of Kashi Cinnamon Harvest and Peanut Butter Puffins with a half-banana, sliced, and 1% milk. It tasted so great. So, so great.

And I wish it hadn't.

Why? While cold cereal is oh so yummy, it has no staying power with me. I could eat a giant bowl and be hungry a half-hour later. When I eat a portion-controlled bowl, I am lucky if I make it that long. It's disastrous - today, I blew threw nearly half my points plus allotment before heading to lunch. Good thing Mark talked his mom into making baked chicken and veggies for dinner instead of the usual pasta she serves when we're invited for a meal.

Given that I've been so snacky this a.m., I thought I'd do something different for What I Ate Wednesday and show you just the snacks.

In the morning, in the car, after dropping off Miles at day care ...

 Nasty SnackWell's bar (it tasted like diet food, if you know what I mean) and a honeycrisp apple.

At my desk, after lunch ...

Pumpkin fluff (No, I don't really have a desk outside. I  was just trying to be fancy.)

At my desk, in the afternoon ...

Kraft Tomato Basil Cheese Stick (I'm still undecided on these), an ugly tangerine and an Annie's fruit snack (found on clearance in the Halloween section at Kroger)

After dinner, while watching "Wheel of Fortune" ...

 

A "Just Pretend It's a Banana Split" Bowl - Strawberries, sliced bananas, Nutella, fat-free Redi Whipp and a crushed pecan. I didn't avoid the ice cream, per se; I was just looking for a way to eat Nutella.

What's your favorite snack?

Taking it (Big) Easy

It's time to go home. Go home to the city where I was born. And run it.

New Orleans, here I come!

For months my BFF and I have been talking about taking a girlfriends getaway. We wanted to do something to celebrate our April birthdays and reminisce about the trips we took together - pre-husbands and pre-babies. We thought about California, the Bahamas, Austin, Texas until we nearly decided on going to Arizona for a spa weekend.

Nearly.

Just as we were getting serious about finding accommodations, I learned that the Rock 'n' Roll series was starting to do half-marathon relays (one leg is 8 miles, the other 5.1). And there was a race in March in New Orleans, which would fit our criteria of being (somewhat) close to our birthdays and being somewhere warm.


I emailed her the idea and we spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about it, talking about it and dreaming of a weekend sans babies. Within two days, airfare and hotels were booked. And today, with our registration, we made it official. BFF and I are running the Rock 'n' Roll New Orleans half-marathon relay.

It's going to be completely mad. M.A.D.D., actually. Mothers Avoiding Diaper Duty. And let me tell you, I am pumped. P-U-M-P-E-D.

What are you excited about today?

(P.S. Sorry Jams. I didn't even see the D.C. half until we were booked.)

Long time gone

Move that body: 7.03-mile run (average pace, 10:34)

I woke up this morning with a pit in my stomach that I haven't felt in a long time. The pit created by long run dread.

You know what I'm talking about. You have "x" number of miles on your schedule and you know you should run them but you look for every out you can.

I ran a hard race yesterday. It's best to rest.
I have a cutback week in the not so distant future. We'll just move it to this week. 
My sports bra is dirty.
Infants have no clue what Daylight Saving Time is. That 5 a.m. wake-up call did me in.
My running partner only wants to go 3 miles. A relaxed 3-miler would be nice.

Add about 100 more and that's what my thought process was like. I just didn't feel like doing the 7 miles on the schedule. I didn't really want to get in any miles, to be honest, but I figured 3 would be good, 5 would be a victory and 7 was not gonna happen.

Regardless, I tried to set myself up for success. I tried to think positive thoughts, reminded myself of why I was doing this and I grabbed a Peppermint Gu as an incentive to make it through. Add in a little encouragement from Mark, and I was out the door.

My husband was lovely enough to join me for the first 3 miles. They were a bit tough - my legs were tight and tired from yesterday, I still hadn't got my head all the way in it and Denali thought he was leading the pack of elites at the New York City Marathon. Once we parted ways, though, and I was on my own - only I could make it happen - I settled in a bit and the run started to feel good. Or close enough.

I nursed the Peppermint Gu for a mile and a half - about mile 3 to mile 4.5 - and it was amazing. Like Christmas in a foil pouch. I'm not sure it gave me any boost but it was a nice flavor - not sickeningly sweet - and it provided a great distraction/reward.

I started to slow down a lot as I approached 6 miles. My legs were finished. To make it to the end, I thought it might be a good idea to run-walk the last mile.

Wrong. So wrong.

After walking 0.1, it took all the energy I could muster to pick up my legs. It sucked. I stopped for a moment, stretched out and decided to just keep moving, no matter how slowly, until I didn't need to move any longer.

When I crossed that finish line (aka my driveway), I was ecstatic. Not only because I could stop moving but because I did something that I didn't set out to do. I motivated myself, I pushed through and I won. If only you could get a plaque for that ...

What did you accomplish this weekend?