Goofy things I do (and don't do)

1) If I can get to my phone, I answer it. Yes, it's a compulsion.

2) I don't/can't text. Oh, I'm sure I'd get way too into it -- if it were an option.
So it's not an option.

3) I don't tweet. I have an account. But I haven't gotten into it. I'm sure if I had a fancier phone, I would.

Speaking of fancier phones, Paul is talking about how my already excessively high productivity (or rather, busy-ness) could be That Much Higher with a better phone. I don't know. I sort of like the fact that I can't get emails on my phone. He's probably right, though, as I've definitely had times when it would've saved time or energy to have mobile Internet. What's interesting about that is that he's adamantly not a big techy; just as I eat vicariously, he indulges any electronics lust through me -- because I'll actually use it.

Boiling frogs

The big cliche: Drop a frog into a pot of hot water and it will jump out. But, if you let the water heat up gradually, it will stay until the hot water kills it.

My recent illness was like that. I gradually got more and more uncomfortable (and got used to the discomfort) until it became a genuine problem.

Getting fat was the same way. The clothes gradually got bigger. It became more difficult to move -- but it all happened so slowly that I didn't really notice. And, of course, I was distracted with other things. As well as in a bit of denial. If you stay away from mirrors, it's hard to notice much of a bodily change.

The problem, of course, is that it's human nature (or at least my nature) to not necessarily pick up on little, gradual changes. It's an error of mindfulness, of course. I have definitely noticed the changes in losing weight -- at the same time, I lost my weight considerably faster than I gained it.

Critics, I have critics

11-year-old: Mom, your hair is looking particularly big. It looks bigger than it did in the pictures of you when you were younger.

Me: Thank you.

11-year-old: That's not a compliment.

Later, I'm walking around the house in a "shapewear" tank top, which fits tightly everywhere and makes me feel as though I have a waist. I wear it as a layer.

Husband: You're not going out in public in that shirt, are you?

Me: No, but why do you say that?

Husband: You're going to get stories for your blog.

Me: I'll remember that next time I need some.

How NOT to eat at the Whole Foods hot bar

At the hot bar at Whole Foods, which is like a buffet (except you pay by the weight of your food), the best deal is bacon, as I've already mentioned.

The worst deal is mashed potatoes. They looked good today, though, and I was hungry, due to eat, and killing time waiting for a prescription. A half cup of prepared potatoes cost me as much as last week's half pound of cooked bacon: $4. The actual cost of these items had I made them at home: Potatoes, 75 cents (because of the milk); bacon $10 (at least).

Doctor visit: My doc is Mr. Mellow, but he got excited today. "What did you do to your ear?!!!!!" he demanded.

Uh, I got a nasty cold.

"Have you ruptured an eardrum before? There's a ton of fluid. You need to take care of yourself!"

Uh, no ruptures that I know of -- of course, I had tons of ear infections as an infant raised on Karo syrup and evaporated milk and it might've happened then.

So, anyway, I was glad I went in today, as I'm now getting feverish (the power of suggestion?) I walked out of there with antibiotics, although he said they might not work, and I was happy to hear my lungs are clear, too.

We did get to talk about the marathon. I can get, frankly, rather embarrassed about my time. I don't feel like a real marathoner, and I really didn't expect his enthusiastic reaction, even at my 6-plus-hour time. He's a fast runner, and I know how they can get. Then again, he knew me when I was 90 pounds heavier, and that makes a difference.

Doctor and upcoming races

Well, I'm finally breaking down and going to the doctor today for my cough and ear pain. It has just lasted too long. In so many ways, I feel "fine;" when I run, though, instead of getting that boost of energy I'm used to, I'm knocked out for a bit. I might -- imagine -- actually need antibiotics; I can count on my fingers the number of times *anyone* in my family has needed antibiotics in the last 20 years.

I had a code for $20 off the Disneyland half marathon in September, so I signed up for that last week. It's still an expensive race. I think the code might still work. Contact me, and I'll pass it on if you want to try.

Victory for Victims Kids Fun Run Race Report

Last night, I talked to my 6-year-old about night-before-a-race preparations.

He looked up at me intently; he wanted to Do Things Right.

I encouraged him to get good sleep and eat healthy food for dinner. (He's a bit of a night owl and he seeks out fat/sugar -- like so many of us -- so it worked to my advantage that he was listening to me regarding race prep.)

In some ways, the race was a bit of a letdown for the kids, as it was too short.

Then, they wanted to know who won, which no one kept track of, of course.

Next time, they'll do a real 5K.

All the race trappings were very cool for the kids. They got a stuffed animal, a book, a T-shirt, decorated hair, lots of free food samples. They would've gotten an intricate balloon animal, but they took a really long time to make, and the race was starting before they got theirs.

I'm not sure I like all the Stuff that was part of the race. The kids did, of course, but it also got all of them in an acquisitive mode. There was a lot of pushing and grabbing (not my kids -- the others). Eventually, there were tears, as the stuffed animal my 8-year-old wanted ran out. Which wouldn't normally prompt tears, but I think the crowds and the chaos contributed.