project RACE monthly update: better late than never

I wish I could say, If only I knew what a difference it makes, I would have started long ago. It would be nice to think I’m that rational, but, as Adoring and Wonderful Husband can attest, my cognitive functions often focus on, Wow! That shirt is sure pretty! and, Mmm! That cake on TV looks sooooo yummy! instead of, Huh, so output greater than input = size 10 (and sometimes even Size 8, when the Goddess is feeling particularly generous).

But now, officially six months into running, all I can say is: Ho. La. Shat. Why didn’t I start this long ago? This is not meant to be a sermon, because running isn’t necessarily easy (but it does get easier over time). And running isn’t necessarily for everyone (even if it’s working for me). I often have people say to me, Isn’t it amazing how different you look? Yes, I’ll agree, but what’s even more amazing to me is how I didn’t realize what I looked like before. I chalk it up to the Nicole Richie frame of mind, in reverse: like a super skinny celebrity who looks at her 85-pound frame and still sees rolls, I used to look in the mirror and see someone who looked just fine, thank you very much (though I did concede a bit of puff). And now, exactly 45 pounds later, I look at pictures of myself from not too long ago and I can finally see how I actually looked. (Which was just fine, thank you very much, but A LOT puffier than I had previously estimated. Ho. La. Puff.) I don’t know what to make of this. Do I have abnormally healthy self-esteem? (And if so, is that a good thing if it means overlooking indicators of health?) Was I in complete denial? (Perhaps, but what to make of committing to change? Surely that shows I knew something needed fixing?) Actually, I think it was this: I’ve come to love life more than ever before, and I now realize how important biology is. How fragile the balance of healthy equilibrium is. And so for all those things I have control over, I want to get control of. Chalk it up to the end of my teenage trust in invincibility, a decade late.

(And stay tuned for my New Year's Resolutions to help me keep it up. I thought starting running was hard? I think I have no idea the challenge that lays before me to stay running, in winter no less, after a ten-hour work day. The thought of it makes me want to poop. Or maybe that's just the ass-end of the Christmas bug I caught that helped keep me from gaining any turkey weight. As Lainey would say, Praise Goddess.)