Another lesson about food, mood, and attitude.

Last night I got home from work feeling stressed and cranky and in just an awful mood. Getting out before my vacation is never easy -- I don't like to tell people "no, I can't do that for you." A couple of collegues asked for last minute work (one motion I'm going to have to draft today), and one parter, when he realized I was going to be gone for 10 days said "Wow, I couldn't do that."

At the end of the work day we had a baby shower for another collegue, where I ate far too much crap - mostly sugar, some meat, and drink my first caffeinated diet coke in months (The "I'm on VACATION Diet"). The combination of the three had me, feeling shall we say, "edgy," as well as just plain physically sick. On top of that, a spat with my uptight and controlling landlord about my plants (a recurring theme of battle in the 8 years I've lived here), and some emotional hangover from a battle with another overly controlling male in my life at the beginning of the week all had me feeling about as cranky as I get -- which is UBERcranky -- but it doesn't happen very often.

I figured lots of water, and a good nights sleep would help a lot, but I woke up this morning still feeling out of sorts. I was lounging on the couch with my cat and I realized I was craving two things: (1) to go back to bed and make everyone go away for a few more hours; or (2) a really hard run where I pushed my body, and which might just get the good endorphins flowing. When it started raining while I was contemplating my options, I knew I had no choice -- time to run.

Just getting out of the house made me even crankier. There is construction going on here, and the contractors have re-arranged my sunporch so I couldn't find anything. Eventually I found what I was looking for, geared up, and hit the road. I went down the hill as fast as my chunky legs would move me, up along the sewall, in the quiet rain. The place was deserted, and so I just ran, for the feeling of running. I hit my first mile in about the fastest pace I've run all summer, at average of 81% HR (still slow, but hey, it was an improvement), took a short walk break, and then ran the second mile only a bit slower and still trying hard, 86% HR (I needed an extra walk break in the middle). Another quarter sprint and I'm at Dunkins. Ahhhh, I feel good, I need coffee. Iced decaf with skim, no sugar, no faux sugar, and no freaking comfort-food muffins. So the patrons stared at me, wet and warm, pink faced, in my running gear. I walked out feeling strong and so much better. Home in another 3/4 mile, coffee in hand, cooling down, average 72% HR.

It's interesting how many times in our various journeys we have to re-learn lessons that we already know. Of course I know that exercise will make me feel better, and how much I love post-run endorphins (even if I still don't love running all that much). I don't understand why these lessons don't get burned into our brains quickly or deeply enough. I can still recite the preamble to the Constitution (thank you School House Rock), I know who number 34 is on the Sox without thought, and I can walk you through the requirements of various rules of civil procedure without having to pick up the rules book. So why can't I (or my body) remember just as easily that bad food makes me feel bad, and good exercise makes me feel good? What about our wiring makes those choices so much more difficult than rote memory? I wish I knew, and making the good choice was more of a habit than it has become, even 4 years into this journey. The good news is that I *can* learn, and I can re-learn too, if necessary.

Now I'm ready to face the errands, shopping, cleaning, laundry, and packing required to get me out the door tomorrow morning. And sandwiched in there will be a pedicure and a massage. It looks like its going to be a fabulous day!