Hanging out in Hollywood

My week as a working mom went pretty well. I had to pull children out of only a couple of things, thanks to the kindness of friends.

I spent a lot of time hanging out in a drugstore. In Hollywood. Far from being glamorous, Hollywood is gritty and trashy. If you want to see "stars" out here (never my desire), you go to Santa Monica or Brentwood or Malibu or Beverly Hills. In Hollywood, there are young and oftentimes troubled people. I saw meth-heads, clubgoers and guys with tattoos all over their faces. Mixed in with families and kids.

Some observations:

1) Standing all day has firmed my legs nearly as much as running regularly does.

2) Walking around the store, I got to inspect all the candy. This will sound weird to anyone who hasn't given up sugar, wheat and flour, but I sort of enjoy it in a vicarious way. I would say almost voyeuristic way, but I got accused of being "creepy" once for using that word by a goofy guy friend. To avoid any however unwarranted perception of creepiness, "vicarious" will do.

Anyway, I like looking at the candy and thinking about what my favorites are. It's odd, but I'm not really tempted. I know what I like, but I don't really want it.

But I brought some new candies home that looked good for the kids to try. So I could eat vicariously.

3) And, oh, you know I couldn't hang out all day at a store without hearing some terrible lines. Once again, I'm not saying I'm "all that." It's just what women go through in our culture. Men are so easily stimulated that it doesn't take much.

So, I'm reading a magazine and some guy about my age comes up to me and tells me he could move the milk in his basket.

I'm confused by this.

So he clarifies, "I could make room for you in the basket if I moved the milk."

And, then, "Do they have coupons that are good for you?"

In the same way some Southern women say, "Bless your heart" (and don't really mean any blessings by it), this native New Englander says, "Oh, aren't you sweet." Without a smile.

This guy surprised me enough and was cute enough (surprisingly, since he was pulling out those lines) that he made me blush, though, and I thought I had gotten better at not flushing. But I have to blame my stupid complexion as well as my now-mild social anxiety for a lot of that.

I was never good at handling that kind of thing when I was young and it happened more often. It would shock me then -- I was much more insecure and less knowing about the silly ways of men. Now, I'm sometimes surprised enough to blush, but not shocked -- and I don't take it particularly seriously.

But it's always a good, "can-you-believe-this-one?" story.

35-minute run before six hours on my feet

The title just about sums up my day.

I've been doing a job where I'm on my feet standing around for the last couple of days, and I'll do it again today. Needless to say, the idea of a run hasn't been appealing. Today, though, I did one. To make it even harder on my legs/knees, it was on concrete. But at least it was out of the sun.

Hooping it up

I did two classes in hula-hooping: one today and one yesterday.

The husband's reaction: Are you crazy? What a stupid thing for a class!

The kids: A pooping class?!

Husband: That would make about as much sense.

In all seriousness, the hooping is fun, and the instruction makes me do things I wouldn't normally. Will I pay market rate for a class? Probably not.

Near misses

I ran for 43 minutes around the neighborhood this morning.

The most notable thing about it was that I almost got hit by a car. Twice.

Well, maybe I'm being a bit dramatic in that I wasn't all that close to getting hit.

Because I stopped and gave them the right of way when it became clear that they were going to go where I was, even thought I had the "walk" sign.

They weight just a little bit more than me. I would lose that fight.

Reason to regroup

I'd been noticing that the rotund pastor at my church has been looking a bit less rotund lately. He came in July, and I'm guessing he's lost at least 30-40 pounds, but it's hard for me to tell with men. He's about as tall as me.

So I talked to him and told him I had noticed and offered congratulations. Then I asked him what he'd been doing.

He said he'd really been watching what he ate, exercising more and drinking a lot of water. All the good stuff.

At a certain point, I realized that he thought I was asking for tips. Which means that although I feel relatively svelte (for me), I'm really not there. Some of it, too, is that I'm no longer as focused on making sure I dress as slimly as possible. Today, I was wearing a sweater dress with an attached belt and another sweater over it -- which probably added 10 pounds to my waist, and I'm not exactly trim there.

So, I ended up telling him that I used to weigh 250 myself.

I also realize that I have talked about how I maintained my weight this year. The reality is that I ended about where I started. That doesn't mean there weren't some fluctuations. I ran the marathon five pounds thinner than I am right now.

Some people talk about running to lose weight. What I've seen other people write makes more sense to me: It's worth it to lose weight so you can run faster. It's a matter of physics. It takes less energy/power to move a lighter object faster.

Tiffany talks about how I should "claim maintenance" because it doesn't look like I can get down further. Darn it, though, I'm needing to try -- if only so I can run a little bit faster. And so, for the first time in my life, I don't look as though I should still be losing.