Run, Run...As Fast As You Can...

We're health conscious in my house.  By that I mean, we're aware of how healthy we used to be, and we attempt to get back there.  Of course, my tactics are different than my husband's.  See, he's motivated to live a long and healthy life; to see his kids grow and get married and live wonderfully blissful lives of their own.

I'm motivated to make sure he only looks at me from now until forever.  Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, FAR away - where no children existed, I looked good enough to demand that by merely breathing....Now, to my sadness, I have to work at it, and I'm not even remotely close to hotness. [shaking my head] Not even close...

So, I diet.  I eat salads.  I row.  I bike.  And now, I run.  I downloaded this couch to 5K app.  And this snooty animated character is training me to run 3 point whatever miles without keeling over.  What is going to happen, is that I'm going to slip on my own sweat and be found lying in a pool of it, drooling and praying for death.  [sigh]

Most recently, my oldest has taken an interest into why we exercise so much (my husband makes her ride her bike with him on his jogs...).  Here's how it played out one evening, as I prepped for my torture on the treadmill...

She looked at me in my work out garb, and my John McEnroe (circa 1985) Head band, as I stretched my calves.  "Mommy, why do you run?"

"Because once, before you inhabited my personal space, I used to be hot.  And while I'll never be able to reclaim that fully, I know that without a doubt I'll try my damnedest to get back there.  Ultimately, I'll take solace in lording it all over you for the rest of your life..."

[my husband yells his encouragement from the other room] "You're really never going to let that go, are you?" Hello?  Has he not been with me for the past 14 years?  Who did he think he married nine years ago next week?  Oh, right...that hot chick.

"Nope...and I'll have it known, if I drop F-bombs while running, I'm going to blame them on the kids too!"

My daughter, in her infinite seven-year-old wisdom, shakes her head at me and walks out of the room.  "Have fun running!" is shouted over her shoulder.  You have no idea kid...no idea.