Well, I didn't pass out.

That's how I felt about my run today. Like the only good thing to say about it was that at least I didn't keel over on the sidewalk. I am really torn on how to proceed. Part of me says, well, you're doing it, albeit barely, so just keep doing it and eventually it will get better. But part of me thinks I should dial it back and proceed at a much slower pace. I don't see how moving on to week 2 of C25K is a good idea right now. So, keep repeating week one until I am not near death or increase the walking time between running intervals? What to do, what to do . . . I wish that the armband that I ordered for my iPod would come. I really hate doing my runs holding that thing in my hand. But I need the podcast to cue me.

Last night I made what is, conceptually, the perfect dinner. Fish tacos. Mahi mahi, coleslaw, corn tortillas. Fish, tons of fresh veggies, low in calories and very delicious. Too bad my kids hated it. :/ My husband loved it so he wants me to make it again and just make them something else or do what he did last night and give them a pizza. Pffft! I hate that. But I also hate the idea of never making that again because my kids didn't like it. This is part of what makes eating right difficult for me. I want to cook meals that everyone will love. I guess I need to learn to accept that it's just not possible.

I hate that I hate this. I can get excited about exercising but that's only about 20% of the equation. I can get excited about good food but I can also get excited about not so good food and that negates everything, which is so unfair and suckish. I wish this process didn't weigh so heavily on me all the time. I wish I was already where I need to be. But as the song says, "If wishes were horses, I'd have a ranch." I just gotta keep kicking myself in the ass. Move along, little dogie.