Major whine

What on earth made me think that training for a marathon would be a good idea at the same time we moved? I must have been on crack! I am totally stressed out; the house is full of boxes; and I am depressed by the overwhelming logistics of getting life back to some new kind of normal. So by all means I should try and squeeze training runs into my life too. And today's run just made everything worse. I could barely motivate myself to get out the door so I was hours past when I normally run (and into the hottest most unpleasant time of day). I didn't drive the route I mapped before running it so not only were the hills rude surprises, but the fact that a street that was supposed to cut through to another neighborhood and didn't--ending in a cul-de-sac--made me stop in astonishment at a mere 3.25 miles (it was supposed to be a 6 mile run). The run felt like cr@p anyway (sore, aching muscles and stiff joints combined with a monster blister on my poor smallest toe) so when the road dead-ended, I had to work really hard to avoid tears. I ran a slight bit more but basically walked home (logging a mile less than I should have total and a good 2 or more miles fewer than I was supposed to *run*). There I avoided unpacking boxes, laid on the couch feeling sorry for myself for about 15 minutes, finally dug through the boxes in the garage to find R.'s dance shoes so she could go to a studio tonight, and drove off in the middle of rush hour to a place I had never been so we wouldn't miss competition try-outs. Result? She's not sure she wants to go back to the studio (they were quite nice to her and to me). So that was worthwhile. Not!

In sum total, what I accomplished today:

1. Destroyed whatever confidence I had in my running.
2. Significantly enlarged the blister that ate Manhattan I've been sporting since the 14 miles run on Saturday.
3. Moped around the house as if it was an Olympic sport and I was in gold medal contention.
4. Ate like cr@p (what else is new this summer?!).
5. Unpacked a grand total of 2 boxes.

I wonder where all my get up and go got up and went?

Craptacular

Looks like another whiny entry for my blog. I promise to have an upbeat one (or at the very least simply a book review) soon to make up for this "woe is me."

I had hoped that running would be the thing I could use to help me cope with stress, instead of comfort eating my way to a ridiculous weight but that's not working, at least not right now. Mac and cheese, on the other hand, felt good initially and now feels like a brick in my stressed out, nauseated gut.

What has me developing an ulcer, you ask? Well, our realtor tells us we'll be "lucky" if we only lose 80K on our house. Oh yeah, we can afford that, no problem. ::gag:: Then, I'm already feeling rough around the edges because of this when 6 year old T.'s soccer coach gives him a lecture about who the coach is simply because T. trotted out on the field saying it was "J.'s turn to kick the ball." Yup, my kid unselfishly trying to make sure his buddy gets the kick in he didn't get to make before their string was pulled after the previous 4 minutes certainly deserves a talking to about who makes the decisions on the field. I strongly suspect that the coach doesn't like me a whole lot and that's reflecting on his reactions to T. (who can be a little pain in the rear, as I'm first to admit). Who's the grown-up here? And finally, because you should have a minimum of three things before your stomach acid ramps up appreciably, a friend told me today that after a PTO meeting, one of the women implied something not terribly nice about me and she (my friend--although more on that designation later) as good as said that my scrip partner was stabbing me in the back. What in the heck am I supposed to do with information like that? I know that my partner wasn't saying what she was credited with saying as she blind cc'd me on all e-mails on the topic but I called her to tell her that the controversy hadn't gone away. More stuff happened but long story short was that the original friend who told me all of this proceeded to chew me a new one for telling my partner that the friend had told me anything, saying that I'd betrayed her, etc. I pretty much spent the rest of the day crying and am fairly certain I can now call her an ex-friend. Not a very nice feeling. The more I reflect on all of it, the more I want to just go ahead, lose the 80K, and just get the heck out of Dodge. I'm pretty much done with being here. Yes, thank-you, I would like some cheese with my wine. Maybe some chocolate too.

(And mental note to self, quit volunteering for anything because the politics will kill you every time.)