One day at a time

I write this sitting on the back porch, looking out over trees that are just starting to change, and reveling in the crisp air. It's 55 degrees here this morning, and our high is going to 69. I think I might cry from relief.

My mom's in town for the weekend and we have an excursion to the gym planned for this morning for a swim and some time on the treadmills. And this afternoon a walk in the park and tea on one of the overlooks, and then dinner. When Mom is here Lia and I eat out more--mainly because Mom comes from a small town where the idea of eating out involves enormous slabs of steak and potatoes swimming in butter, and that's not really her thing. My Mother has been thin and lovely my whole life, and she adores really fresh, healthy food. Unlike so many other people who struggle with weight I definitely can't blame her, unless it's to say that her insistence on feeding her daughters in a healthy way made me ravenous for sugar and other "bad" things. Anyway, there's a cafe not far from the house that serves a fabulous spinach salad with squash, sunflower seeds, blue cheese, peppers and edible flowers and she loves it, so maybe we'll have dinner out again.

Only a month until my 5k, and now that the weather is cooperating I need to push my training. I've taken the last week "off" more or less because the humidity was killing my lungs, and because I've been dealing with restless legs at night. That happens to me sometimes when I go from 0 exercise to 60 minutes with no buildup. But I've kept walking in the park for an hour or so, and the leg problem seems to have abated.

In other, more humiliating news, Lia and I bought a dog stroller. Faulkner, our 12-year-old cavalier king charles spaniel, has heart failure and he can't take walks any more. But it's so pitiful to leave him by the back door and take Eliza (the other cav) out that we said Goodbye to our self respect and bought the stroller. The brandname is "Outward Hound" and we're sure we're getting stares from the normal people in the park, but oddly enough the other dog owners look at us with understanding. This is what you sign up for when you have animals, I suppose. Humiliation. Not unlike having kids, I daresay. *g*