Effing salad! Exercise and diet adventures on the road

Monday:
Up at 5am to run in the hotel gym. Today's revelation is that trying to read the news crawl on the bottom of the Fox News Channel screen (that's right, this chick is a CONSERVATIVE but I swear I'm not contagious) makes me motion sick. Finally had to turn off the way cool treadmill TV to finish my miles. A quick a.m. call to the hubs confirms that, without me there for motivation, he did not go to the gym. I try not to sound pious and fail miserably.

Breakfast - yogurt
Lunch - nonexistent; client is laying an egg over some meetings this afternoon so I leave early for some handholding
Dinner - at 7pm, announce I'm going to eat my own arm, so the boss takes me to dinner: mushroom and brie soup, but at least I didn't eat the bread. One glass of wine.

Tuesday:
Up at 5am, back in the hotel gym but remembered not to use the evil treadmill TV. Just like yesterday, have the gym all to myself. During planks, daydream that this is my personal gym. Then I think, but who's going to dust all this crap?

Breakfast - yogurt and toast
Lunch - took a client to some trendy cafe and am now in a panic that eating out every meal for FOUR FREAKING DAYS is going to move me right back into my fat pants: salad, no dressing
Dinner - client holiday dinner, so I splurged on mushroom-and-spinach ravioli but was soooo good for dessert: berries and cream

Wednesday:
Eff the hotel gym, I am tired.

Breakfast - yogurt
Lunch - took a client out again and had, you guessed it: salad
Dinner - the boss threw a wine pairings party, so I ate 2 shrimp, one prosciutto-wrapped asparagus spear, one disgusting hunk of chicken, and one quarter-sized hunk of dark chocolate; was tipsy by the third tasting but hid it well

Thursday:
Decide that loading my 100 pounds (no joke, I weighed it) of luggage into the car and then schlepping it around at the airport was enough workout for me. The DC area is expecting snow in two days -- TWO DAYS -- and people are Losing. Their. Minds.

Breakfast - yogurt, which I may never eat again as long as I live
Lunch - another client holiday affair, so of course I had: salad
Dinner - in the airport where no one knows me and I'm starving after four days of effing salad: Five Guys greasy burger and fries, come to momma!

Friday:
Home at last: The Christmas tree has no water and the dog has dried spaghettios all over the side of his giant head. It's good to be needed! Climbed onto the scale and ta-da! I lost three pounds! Which is very exciting until I realize the cold, hard fact: I'll have to eat salads four days a week for the rest of my life if I want a dress size that does not have a W after it.

This week's goal: no Christmas weight gain.

As if.

Rule breaker, that's me

Have you read Mark Remy's The Runner's Rule Book? I have only read a few of the rules, since I'm hoping Hubs will get the 50lb hints I've been dropping and get it for me for Christmas.

Anyway, from the online picture of the back cover, this was my favorite:

Rule 2.32 Do whatever it takes to finish in front of a costumed runner

Which brings me to last weekend's 5K. This was one of those holiday 5Ks that involved running in 18-degree weather alongside people dressed up like Santa, elves, reindeer, and yes, even a Christmas tree. This chick had a giant burka of green felt hanging off her head and down her body, with garland and ornament-type stuff glued on.

(I SWEAR I am taking my camera on the next "fun run" I do so you can see these people. I do not make this stuff up.)

So, back to me. I ran a much better race than in September, when the ankle was still screaming "what are you DOING?" every time I ran -- well, shuffled -- more than a step or two. No ankle pain this go-round; I even shaved a few minutes off of my time, and happily headed to the (thankfully) indoor area for munchies.

While I'm chowing down on gingerbread cookies and bananas (don't ask), the Xmas Burka goes by. My teenage daughter rolls her eyes and announces how glad she is that she finished ahead of the tree. Then she looks at me, looks quickly away and turns red in the face, which is all the hint I need.

I FINISHED AFTER A FREAKING TREE COSTUME.

Sorry, Mark. I'll try harder next year.

Me and My Big Mouth

The hubs has been having back trouble lately. Very painful back trouble. A lot of it is courtesy of the military, but his post-military physique isn't helping. He has a grand civilian job -- where he has learned, among other things, that you cannot talk to people in the real world the way you would talk to your military underlings -- that keeps him pretty sedentary.

Doc tells him to lose weight. Wife gently suggests a little exercise. Nothing changes.

Then, he goes to a chiropractor last week and comes home with, "WOW! This guy says I should eat right and get some exercise!" Like it's news.

Here's where my big mouth comes in...

I'm ramping up my running again and need to lose some pounds before my next half marathon. Knowing that hubs leaves VERY EARLY for work every day, I actually suggest getting up at FOUR FREAKING THIRTY in the FREAKING MORNING to go to the gym so we can work out before he heads to the office.

And he said yes.

So, here we are on day 2 of Pre-Dawn Gym Time. The good news: we have our pick of cardio equipment. The bad news: by 9:30pm, I can barely keep my eyes open.

I should lose weight just on brownie points for getting up so early and helping someone else get to the gym. I weighed in on Monday -- no change, merci beaucoup -- and will do so again on Friday. I expect some progress, people!

Yawn.

UPDATE: Day 4, and he has lost almost 10 pounds. Moi? Nope, not a single pound lost. Sigh.