tobermory's Diaryland Diary

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8k = 5 miles

I’ve been told that if I can slog through a 5k I can limp through an 8k, and so I have duly signed myself up for the 2007 Rudolph Ramble - $30 buys me another long-sleeve technical t-shirt, warm fuzzies for the miniscule part of my registration that will go towards helping Children’s Memorial Hospital, and the weeklong feeling of dread as the race draws near. Nice commenter Joe (Joe – your diary link doesn’t work – what gives?) says I should get my own set of strap-on antlers or Santa hat and show them how it’s done, and so I shall – I think Target carries a variety of festive headgear and I’m headed there at lunch anyway. You all will have to keep your fingers crossed for decent race weather again – we’ve got a snow advisory for the next few days and then the extended forecast calls for rain showers on race day. Oh joy! The last race was on the streets of Chicago in the warehouse & food industry district (very bizarre smells through the whole race – at different times there were odors of chocolate, seafood or spices), but the race this weekend will be near the lakefront (because it’s the only place that has a guaranteed clear trail – kudos to the Chicago Park District for that) – and I’ll really have to bundle up to keep from getting chilled by the lake wind. I hope they have a warming tent so I don’t turn into a popsicle. As for more than 8k – I just don’t know. Betty – what does this mini-marathon of which you speak entail? How many miles do they make you run? Also, why haven’t you updated your journal? We care! We want to know what’s going on in your life too!

For those of you who know me well, the following will come as a shocker. I babysat last night. My friend Allison has an important corporate dinner to attend and since spouses were expected to come along she needed a weeknight babysitter –something in short supply if you’re picky, which she very much is. Now don’t expect me to get all gushy and hormonal and start to want my very own 15 month old. Not. Going. To. Happen. But, it wasn’t the worst night of my life either. She’s at the age where her entertainment needs are minimal – flipping through a book and handing out individual Cheerios was plenty. It’s when they start to expect you to play vile games like CandyLand and Chutes & Ladders that I start to crap out as a babysitter – I just can’t feign the interest. Steve was there too and we managed to entertain, feed, bathe, re-diaper, and put the tot to bed with no major problems. I do have observations about the experience. How do you people with kids do it? I can understand how you get the stuff for the kid done, but then how do you have time left over to do anything for yourself? And I’m not talking about frou-frou stuff like getting a manicure or having tea at the Ritz– I’m talking about having time for bathing and sleeping and eating – for YOU. I’m never going to look at a frumpy, frazzled mom pushing a stroller with any kind of mean judgment again. Also – diaper manufacturers need to put a diagram on the box for those of us who are rookies. It took two of us to arrange the diaper so that we could tape the tabs to the diaper instead of the tot.

Food Log:
Dinner last night: 4 slices of hoity-toity Italianesque thin-crust pizza – three margharita (tomato/mozzarella/basil) and one slice of arugula/proscuitto pizza.
Breakfast: Kashi bar, lo-fat fruit/yogurt smoothie.
Snack: no-sugar apple/berry sauce, 1 oz. pecans.
Lunch: Lean Cuisine Asian-style pot stickers, small banana.
Snack: Tanka bite (bison/cranberry energy bar – yummy!)
Exercise: Boot Camp, one hour belly dance rehearsal.

2 comments so far

4:43 p.m. - 2007-12-04

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