Five months or so ago, I announced here that I was going to sign up for the Rump Roast 5K run on September 26th in Minocqua. I had put doing a 5K on my "life list," and I figured that by starting to get in shape in April I'd be able to handle the run 5 months later.
Well, I chickened out. Instead of running on Saturday, my rump will be roosting in Miller Park at the Brewer game. I'll most likely have an overpriced brat in one hand and a beer in the other. I'm going to Milwaukee for the weekend with my bowling team--and of course, one of the first items we decided was who would bring what snacks.
I don't know what it would take to keep me on the straight and narrow where food is concerned. Maybe I need to throw out all my cookbooks and cooking magazines, my cookie sheets and cake pans. Have some skinny, health-conscious person do my grocery shopping. Watch The Biggest Loser instead of Dancing With the Stars. Hear a bratty little kid call me Fatty fatty two-by-four.
Seriously, I know what I have to do; I just can't seem to get it done. Life = socializing = food = temptation. Living in a cave and having someone deliver me lettuce and water might work.
Less than nine months to Erica and Craig's wedding, and I'm no closer to looking for a mother-of-the-bride dress than I was six months ago. I can visualize the thought bubbles over people's heads as I come down the aisle:
"The mother of the bride is looking wide!" "She used to be thinner; what's she eating for dinner?!" "Her hair's natural red, but she's been overfed." "Wonder what she spent to buy that tent?" "After the wedding she can use it for bedding."
Just kidding--everyone will have their eyes on Erica anyway. Besides, I'm really not that desperate yet.
Maybe that's the problem.
**Happy birthday to Fred tomorrow!! I love you!!
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