My Half Marathon…plus some

On the Sunday after our trip to Buffalo, after too many (aforementioned) marshmallows to count, I came to the unsettling realization that weight watchers weigh in was on Monday, and I was on track to be up 3 pounds.

Sidenote and Betcha Didn’t Know #46: I gain weight in 3 pound increments and lose weight in 1/10 pound increments. Seriously, it’s weird but true.

Anyway, once I came to this realization, I brainstormed about my options to prevent the inevitable “+3” showing up on my Weight Watchers card the next day. And +3 was the best-case scenario. If I weighed in on “the heavy scale”, I’d be +4, easy. When Kellie comes to the meetings with me, I force her to weigh on “the heavy scale”. What are friends (who don’t even need to lose weight) for, right?

So, about this time, Jeff was putting on his tennis shoes and bathing suit, gearing up for his 4 mile daily run on the treadmill.

Secondary Sidenote: If Jeff is not in his work clothes, there is about a 90%chance that he is in his bathing suit.

Anyway, he's getting ready to run and I'm curled up under a blanket on the couch watching a rerun of John and Kate plus Eight, when I’m all, “Hey Jeff, I think I am going to run over to my parents house.”

*Note: My parents house is 14 miles away. I loathe exercise (see here or here for more information on that topic) and I haven’t run further than the mailbox in the last 3 months.

He just stood there staring at me for about 10 seconds, then chuckled under his breath, and had the audacity to mumble something about how I would die if I even attempted it. Uh…puleease. I might be overweight and not the fastest kid on the team…but die? I don’t think so. Worst case, I could just walk when I got tired. Mica walked 60 miles in three days, and she didn’t die. She got blisters, but she didn’t die.

That one statement, coupled with the fear of the +3 was all it took. I got myself off the couch…put on my jogging shoes...the same ones I have had since the 7th grade…and started getting serious. At that point, I had already made up my mind that I would do it, and I COULD do it, but I decided it was in my best interest to do some negotiating before I headed out the door.

“If I go, will you fold all the laundry?”

“uh...SURE..”…he said, still chuckling in a tone that lacked confidence.

As I put on my sunscreen and my stopwatch (as if I was out to break records), Jeff started to get visibly nervous and began peppering me with questions.

“Well, if you are really going to do this, you are going to have to tell me your route.”
“Take you cell phone.”
“What are you going to drink along the way?”
“Can you write down the number to the life insurance policy?”

Okay, not that last one, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he started digging through the filing cabinets looking for it after I left.

After a few more minutes of questioning, I was out the door. By about the stop sign at the end of my street I started second guessing my “things to do on a Sunday afternoon list.”

• I thought about what Jeff would do if I walked back into the door and shouted JUST KIDDING!
• I thought about the 4 loads of laundry that needed to be folded.
• I thought about how most of life’s problems would be solved if my legs didn’t rub together.
  Or if spouses could actually burn calories for you. Because Jeff would totally do that for me.
• I thought of how many people would see me on the side of the road and think my car had broken down, because I wasn’t running fast enough to be exercising.
• I thought about how much easier this task would have been if I still lived 9/10ths of a mile from my parents house.
• I thought of geometry and how a² + b² = c²... and how much distance I needed to take off of the final amount since I was cutting every last corner between Plano and Carrollton.
• I thought about that time when I ran 5 miles straight and gained ½ a pound.
• I thought about why I didn’t bring my iPod that I had purchased over a year ago with custom engraving that said “Just Run…no excuses”
• I thought about why the custom engraving wasn’t enough to keep me from making excuses.

After about 10 miles, Jeff drove by with the kids in tow, honking and waving. He was on his way to my parent’s house. I had purposely not told my mother of my crazy antics because I knew she would worry and scratch her wrist the entire time she waited for me. But of course, when the three of them showed up, she began worrying. She calls me frantically and is all, “Lisa, did Jeff kick you out of the car and make you walk??!?” Like that was a real possibility.

And as bad as my legs were hurtin’ and blisters were rubbin’,I couldn’t help but laugh. Yea Mom, not-a-violent-bone-in-his-body-Jeff kicked me out of the car, then went to his mother-in-law’s house to tell her all about it. Now I am stuck walking down Hebron, and we are getting a divorce.

To make a long story short, (reads long, runs even LONGER) after 4 and a half hours, 2 CVS breaks, and one near bee swarm attack, I made it. Oh come on, don’t do the math. I made it…and the next day I had -.8 written on my Weight Watchers card (don’t miss the decimal…that was POINT EIGHT).

Was it worth it, you ask? Ummm….I think I will just fold the laundry next time.