The inner-child picnic

Aim tells a story about a real “inner-child picnic” she and S. went to once-upon-a-time during the height of the Recovery phase of the mid-90s. They saw a poster about it at a bookstore and thought it would be a lark, but they got there and folks were taking it very seriously. A woman at the park greeted them wearing a smocked pink party dress with her hair in pigtails. She gave them each a balloon to tie to their wrists, and when they went it they saw a bunch of adults playing in paddling pools and riding see-saws, and playing in the sandbox. And they were all very, very serious about the whole thing.

Well, I think my inner-child would like to attend a picnic these days. Of course I really mean more time to play in that playing for me would be reading and napping and spending long hours outdoors lying under a tree. Instead, I am in full-blown Grown Up mode lately, eating right (or trying to), exercising, writing, fielding family issues, working 10 hours a day at the office. Just ... too much. All of it is too much – I am worn through. Thankfully I am less emotionally raw than I was two weeks ago, but I’m heading into physical exhaustion and that’s never good for me. I am aiming for early bed times every day this week, though I doubt that will happen since I’m working under three really harsh deadlines this week. One for school (MFA) and two for work that have to be done by the end of the month. Woe.

The only thing helping is knowing that I have a week on the beach in early August, and intend to plant myself in the sand on Saturday the 30th and not uproot until Sunday the 7th. Aim is staying home to pet sit, and I’m heading to Emerald Isle, NC with my parents and sisters and brother-in-law. Oh sun. Oh surf. Oh rapture! If anyone needs me I will be the dark girl in the green bathing suit who needs to lose forty pounds, sitting on a blanket and reading Harry Potter 6.

Had a busy weekend, as you have probably guessed by now. The house was full of company until Saturday night, when I finally had a moment to myself I threw on a sports bra and went for a run. I did 3.5 miles with my iPod and then came home, only to find A. getting ready to go for a walk, so I went back out with her and wogged another mile. I think the last mile was the clincher for me, because I was sore as anything on Sunday and felt really worn out. Like, took a 3-hour nap and still felt exhausted, kind of worn out. I had been eating low-carb before I started running (which despite everyone’s hatred of it, really works for me. And no, I don’t eat whole pounds of bacon. Just things like fish and chicken and vegetables. So please don’t worry overmuch about my kidneys *g*) but the addition of exercise to my routine has really made me up the levels of good carbs. I’ve added in a cup of brown rice in the mornings, and more berries and nuts and vegetables, along with grapefruit juice. I’m hoping that does the trick to up my energy level a bit. I admit I find it hard to believe that my very slow walk/jog would trigger a real need for much more carbohydrates, but I’m willing to work with it.

One thing that I can’t add in is bread, however. My mother brought a loaf of homemade whole-grain bread with her this weekend and I ate one measely slice and then found myself saying Yes, Why Not to pizza last night, and Sure, Why Not Indulge A Bit to flour tortillas and corn chips today. So I know that bread is a real trigger for me, and while I like the idea of having the will to be normal and eat a few pieces of bread a week I know that it doesn’t work for me. I am simply not. I prefer to think of it as “uncommon” rather than abnormal.

Random list of other ways that I am not normal:

1. I lose weight from the bottom up. The first thing to go on me is my hips and butt. I have no ass to speak of, and yet my stomach? Still there. My chest? Ye gods, still there. That roundness under my chin? Still there. (This falls into the “you’re never happy with what you have” category, along with my wavy hair, my perpetual “tan” –Native American and French blood will do that to you. And I’ve always wanted to wear glasses, too, but have perfect eyesight. Alas!)

2. Why I can’t wear Lane Bry@nt clothing. When the waist fits, I could fit both of my legs in a leg hole. Also what is up with that enormous pouch of fabric in the crotch? I am not storing nuts for the winter, people, nor do I carry my granny’s handbag in that thing.

So to sum up: the weekend was good exercise wise, baddish food wise. Also tiring. See, you could have skipped down! :)

Tonight makes Run 1 of Week 5 of the C25K, which means I can make a new iPod playlist. Week 5 is the first real jump in time. By the end of the week I’ll do only a warm up walk, then straight into 20 minutes of running. I hope to God I can do that! Maybe I’ll map out a path that avoids hills. 86% humidity today, and 88 degrees. :sob: