Turkey Trot

Well, Silas turns five months old today. He's precious. However, that's not the point of today's story. Today's story deals with the sad fact that I have not run in Silas' lifetime, nor in the nine months that I was pregnant with him, which for all you non-math majors means that I have not jogged in a total of 14 months. This equals me being in the worst shape of my entire life, and with ten long pounds to go until I'm back at my pre-pregnancy weight.

In addition to this realization is another conclusion that I have come to about myself. With my 30th birthday on the horizon, my soul-searching has led me to understand that I simply adore food, and I'm not willing to give it up. I love eating it, tasting it, smelling it, cooking it, baking it, planning my next meal, you name it. I eat when I'm happy, when I'm bored, upset, stressed... eating is tops. And one thing that I know about myself is that I don't plan to stop eating whatever I want, at least until the doctor tells me I have diabetes or some other similar fate. So to counter-balance the insane amount of food that enters my body, I'm simply going to have to exercise it off. I realized that I am okay with being the 40-year-old lady who runs 15 miles a week if it means I get to say "I'm eating that piece of chocolate cake and I refuse to feel guilty about it."

So begins Project Turkey, which is my exercise plan that is so aptly named after a delicious form of food. Jogging has begun this week and I don't see it ending for a long period of time, as long as I remain stubbornly opposed to a no-sweets diet. My first stop is a 5K on Thanksgiving morning (of course, after I log in those 3.1 miles I plan to eat to my heart's content at meal-time). This is my first week of training, and I actually feel motivated to get moving. I have a long way to go though... I only ran for 7 minutes today and it damn near killed me. Better than nothing though. November 25th, here I come...