Archive for May 23rd, 2008

Remember a few months ago, when I was going on about losing weight for racing season, instigated by the few pounds I lost from the flu? I never did update this, but after 4 days of noting everything I ate along with a meticulous calorie count, I stopped. Stopped weighing myself and stopped worrying about it.

After all, one of the utmost joys of running is being able to eat what you want with just a modicum of moderation. So why take away such a glorious, valuable gift? Let my speed increases come solely from training – I don’t want to deny myself anything yummy again!

Beyond the power of choice, losing weight can be a no-win game for us gals in our 40s. There is a (very true) saying that women my age must sometimes choose between our asses or our faces.

In case that isn’t immediately clear, it’s because as we age, we need fat in our faces, it’s what keeps things from drooping and sagging. So accepting a big butt may be the price you pay for a more youthful face. Now, I don’t want to get fat (been there, done that), but I also think losing weight could backfire on me…so bring on the candy!

I have candy pretty much every night after dinner and have for years. I go on streaks, but I’m always up for jelly beans and their cousins, Mike & Ike, though Jelly Bellies are my fave. The problem with chewy candy, however, is that in its clutches, I become a bottomless pit. It takes a shitload of jelly beans for me to feel “done” – I’ll eventually stop because I know I should, but not because I want to.

So I take occasional breaks from the chew-licious crack and buy chocolate type candies for awhile. My latest favorite is this mix: Reeses Pieces and Mighty Malts (or Whoppers if I must). Behold my delectable bowl of baby poo.

I love these bowls, too. They’re about as big as your fist and perfect as an alternative for sitting there with an open bag on your lap. It’s my one nod towards portion control.

But enough of this sugar, the most sweetest thing just happened and no candy was involved:

Nick’s dad, 91, lives downstairs with his springy 70 year-old wife. She’s been in Germany for 2 weeks and will be returning tomorrow but Nick’s dad is utterly lost without her. Nick just looked in on him and he’s been sitting there today, all dressed up, because he was convinced today is Saturday and she’d be coming home. The sweetie!