Monday

So, I survived ...

No, the radio silence was not me recovering from major injury or heat exhaustion. Just an overabundance of everyday life going on, particularly as regards, as The Husband would say, "our buggle infestation."* The couch to 5k app is very helpful, and the whole thing seems well designed. I sweated, I burned, I gasped, I puffed, but I didn't actually die, or think I was going to die, and for me that was an unexpected bonus. I was totally expecting the last third to be a miserable, slogging mess, but it wasn't. It wasn't fun, but it was doable.

I came home to awake and dressed children and husband, took a lovely shower, and continued on with a very full day. Monday for us is grocery day, which, with the chirrens, is a fairly drawn-out process. Which meant that eating ... well ... was irregular. After coming back from running, I drank water but didn't eat anything (I know, bad Libby!) and off we went to take The Husband to work. I assumed that the buggles and I could go to the bakery section of the grocery store and get some muffins or something, so I wasn't bothered. However, breakfast had been put away. At 9 in the morning. Lunch, complete with baked potatoes and pasta salad, was spread out. Deciding against pasta salad at 9am, we pushed on. To Starbucks, where I had a grande coffee frappuccino and most of a piece of pumpkin bread. (Big Bit ate several bites.) Lunch, post-grocery trip was (I cringe to say it) mac and cheese from a box. Big Bit was ecstatic, and poured half of his into the hidden recesses of our coffee table/game night table. Dinner was bean soup and buttered wheat bread, which I felt virtuous about whenever I wasn't thinking about the mac and cheese for lunch. After dinner I made a very delicious concoction, a cross between brownies and pecan pie. Highly recommend, but not in the portions I at it in. I ate a full cereal bowl's worth and felt sickish afterwards. And then embarrassed - who eats until they actually get sick? And then sick again.

So.

Definitely a mixed bag there. And somewhat characteristic of the rest of this week. The running (if you can make a judgment from only two days) seems to be a good choice, but I'm definitely going to have to get the eating under control. Or rather, the choice making. This week in particular, it seems like I am helpless against any sweet option. If it is there, I will eat it. Even if this means plopping down on the floor at 9:30 am with Big Bit and the pecan pie brownie pan and two forks.

It would seem that I clearly need to place some limits on sugar, but what kind? How much? Start harsh or ease into it?

The number: 260 :-( 

 


*Somewhere back in the annals of time, we started attaching "-bug" to our children's names, and now that there are two of them, they are, collectively, "the buggles." Buggle infestation in our house usually manifests in all the books in the the lower half of the bookshelves being dumped on the floor, or toys being cunningly positioned so as to cripple the parent who runs into/steps on/trips over the toy.