Food for Thought... and Tummies
Here I am. Me and my computer. Well, technically me and Adam's computer. My computer seems to be on its last legs. Or RAMs. Or whatever the hell it is computers have. Once upon a time, I was a tech savvy person. Those days are gone. I know how to operate my iPhone. I know enough to want a new iPhone. But that's pretty much it.
Of course, now that I'm having some good quality time with a computer, all I can think is, "Peach crisp is calling my name." Adam adds, "Nothing Pizza Hut makes is good. You should blog that." My father just called to tell me he sat next to Peter Greene on his plane ride to Miami. I, however, hadn't heard of Peter Greene before.
I've decided it's time to get back on the Weight Watchers wagon. Of course, now that I'm doing that, I'm obsessed with food. My BMI is actually in the healthy range right now at 23.3 But I'm anxious to improve my running PRs--so far I've signed up for six shorter runs (well, seven, but I've already run one) and I plan on signing up for a few halves--and the best way I know to run faster is to haul less weight. Runner's World has an article this month about avoiding aches and pains, and it said if you're doing longer runs, you really need to have a BMI lower than 21 to save your knees. I'm at that point of life that my knees need to be safeguarded. But that's not going to happen. I'd have to lose fifteen pounds to get to a BMI of under 21 and 1) really? and 2) I'd be a little bony. I'm not exactly a small-boned gal, and 3) really? So now I'm obsessing over the peach crisp in the fridge that I made for our weekend guests, but on 18 points a day, that's not happening. So--
Oooh! iPhone commercial! Shiny! Pretty.
Wait, where was I? Eh, there's nothing more boring than a person watching his or her weight. But it might slip in sometimes. Because there's nothing more obsessed than a person watching his or her weight. Did I mention the peach crisp? It is an exquisite peach crisp.
Of course, my son needs to be watching his weight. But in the other direction. The girl is solidly a pound heavier than the boy. That kid is a peanut. I measured both of them today: Doodles is 41" and 38 lbs. Pie is 38" and 39 lbs. (Does that make her more or less a square?) I still have him in his car seat in the minvan and he's been a real trooper about being the only kindergartner in a full car seat. In Adam's car we have him in a booster with a back. He's definitely a full year away from the backless booster unless he has a serious summer growth spurt (the rules for the backless are 4 years old, 40 inches, and 40 pounds). I'm ready to cave and put him in a booster with back in our car (he's more than big enough for that one. For that you need to be 3 years old, 38 inches, and 30 pounds). The five-point harness is the safest for as long as possible, but he's suffered long enough.
I'm cooking for the boy. I've been making magic out of our Boston Organics delivery (a home veggie and fruit delivery service). I've been putting my haus frau skills to the test. One night, we have zucchini, peppers, and yellow squash. I didn't want to make multiple meals. I peered in the fridge and we had cheddar cheese, salsa, green onion, and in the cabinet, I found a can of beans. So I made do-it-yourself burritos. But wait, tortillas? I didn't have any tortillas. So I made them. From scratch. In time for a family dinner. I was pretty impressed with myself. Of course, Pie refused to eat them.
Me: Look, Pie. Even Doodles is eating them!
Doodles: Yeah! They're good!
Me: See, Pie! They're great! They're even better than the store-bought kind.
Doodles: Well... I don't think I'd say they were better.
Why do I even bother? Okay, no more food talk. I've got to go and not think about peach crisp.
Of course, now that I'm having some good quality time with a computer, all I can think is, "Peach crisp is calling my name." Adam adds, "Nothing Pizza Hut makes is good. You should blog that." My father just called to tell me he sat next to Peter Greene on his plane ride to Miami. I, however, hadn't heard of Peter Greene before.
I've decided it's time to get back on the Weight Watchers wagon. Of course, now that I'm doing that, I'm obsessed with food. My BMI is actually in the healthy range right now at 23.3 But I'm anxious to improve my running PRs--so far I've signed up for six shorter runs (well, seven, but I've already run one) and I plan on signing up for a few halves--and the best way I know to run faster is to haul less weight. Runner's World has an article this month about avoiding aches and pains, and it said if you're doing longer runs, you really need to have a BMI lower than 21 to save your knees. I'm at that point of life that my knees need to be safeguarded. But that's not going to happen. I'd have to lose fifteen pounds to get to a BMI of under 21 and 1) really? and 2) I'd be a little bony. I'm not exactly a small-boned gal, and 3) really? So now I'm obsessing over the peach crisp in the fridge that I made for our weekend guests, but on 18 points a day, that's not happening. So--
Oooh! iPhone commercial! Shiny! Pretty.
Wait, where was I? Eh, there's nothing more boring than a person watching his or her weight. But it might slip in sometimes. Because there's nothing more obsessed than a person watching his or her weight. Did I mention the peach crisp? It is an exquisite peach crisp.
Of course, my son needs to be watching his weight. But in the other direction. The girl is solidly a pound heavier than the boy. That kid is a peanut. I measured both of them today: Doodles is 41" and 38 lbs. Pie is 38" and 39 lbs. (Does that make her more or less a square?) I still have him in his car seat in the minvan and he's been a real trooper about being the only kindergartner in a full car seat. In Adam's car we have him in a booster with a back. He's definitely a full year away from the backless booster unless he has a serious summer growth spurt (the rules for the backless are 4 years old, 40 inches, and 40 pounds). I'm ready to cave and put him in a booster with back in our car (he's more than big enough for that one. For that you need to be 3 years old, 38 inches, and 30 pounds). The five-point harness is the safest for as long as possible, but he's suffered long enough.
I'm cooking for the boy. I've been making magic out of our Boston Organics delivery (a home veggie and fruit delivery service). I've been putting my haus frau skills to the test. One night, we have zucchini, peppers, and yellow squash. I didn't want to make multiple meals. I peered in the fridge and we had cheddar cheese, salsa, green onion, and in the cabinet, I found a can of beans. So I made do-it-yourself burritos. But wait, tortillas? I didn't have any tortillas. So I made them. From scratch. In time for a family dinner. I was pretty impressed with myself. Of course, Pie refused to eat them.
Me: Look, Pie. Even Doodles is eating them!
Doodles: Yeah! They're good!
Me: See, Pie! They're great! They're even better than the store-bought kind.
Doodles: Well... I don't think I'd say they were better.
Why do I even bother? Okay, no more food talk. I've got to go and not think about peach crisp.
Labels: doodles, pie, running, sporty mom
3 Comments:
BB (who is, what, a full year older than Pie?) weighs 10 pounds less than that. Ten. She'll be in a car seat when she takes her driving test, I'm sure of it.
Also, LG still cries when he sees beans. Seriously. Cries. You want to feel better about Doodles, come on over here for dinner. I'll make fresh tortillas.
I agree, dieting is boring. Though watching your weight does not have to be.
So, I don't know what to say about weight and running. I know women who are really fast yet they have a bigger build. I am faster now than I was in my 20s, yet I weight 10lbs more. Also, I did not have any knee problems when I was pregnant and running (and 40lbs heavier), but I do now (not during long runs, but during speed workouts). Anyhow, I do think you look great, and that you are a strong runner. I say, if you want to get faster, do more races (which you are) and more speed workouts. Based on your 1/2 marathon time, you CAN qualify for Boston (at least based on what the FIRST guys say). And there is NOTHING boring about running:) Ana-Maria
wait, wait... how old are Doodles and Pie? If I'm correct, they are 3 and 5, right? Dear lord, my munckin is a giantess (she certainly doesn't get it from me!). At 2 years, 2 months, she's 40 inches and 28 lbs. Crazy, huh?
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