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Location: Northern California

Read all about the adventures of the Tsao Family during the summer of 2012

Thursday, May 25, 2006


I'm gonna do it 'til I'm satisfied. Or a size 8.

Remember yesterday's To Do List? Well, I got a lot of it done. Hurrah! And that includes running two miles, which Grace prodded me about in a comment on Flickr.

I have to admit that I'm only halfway through organizing the master bedroom closet. I also didn't exactly get around to cleaning up the back patio. But of course I ran my two miles! Are you kidding? Running is my drug. If my kids were old enough to watch TV without supervision and I had more time to devote to longer runs, I totally would train for a marathon. In fact, I'm enviously watching Grace as she prepares for the New York City Marathon in November. Go, Grace, go!

Sometimes I find it ironic that at the ripe old age of 37 I am a runner, when at the young hip age of 17 refusing to run in P.E. class almost cost me my graduation from high school. Wait, is that ironic? Maybe it just means that I was a loser in high school. Or that my ass now is bigger than my ego was then.

I didn't know much back then, but now I know that running helps to clear my head. I can leave this house in the worst mood ever, go on a run, and return in love with life and even my husband. It's like a drug, I tell ya! The housewife's ecstasy!

There are two other reasons I like to run: I like what it does to my energy level and I like what it does to my hips and ass. You know how I'm cleaning and organizing my closet? Well, it's because half my clothes don't fit me anymore; I'm finally down to the weight I was when I got pregnant with Thomas. (Yes, he is a year and a half old. Shut up.) All I know is that losing weight after the second baby is much more difficult than it is after the first. Although in my case, stress was a big factor in my overeating. Sometimes life just got crazy when I had a toddler and a newborn both needing something from me, or crying, or crying about needing something from me. Temporary insanity would cause my head to spin around like Linda Blair's in The Exorcist and inevitably, my gaze would land on my ever-faithful friend, my cookie jar.

If I have a third child, I'm thinking the name "Milano" would be appropriate.

A couple of weeks ago, there was an article in Scientific American that revealed:
"Married mothers who also hold jobs, despite having to juggle career and home, enjoy better health than their underemployed or childless peers. Data from a long-term study launched in the U.K. in 1946 shows that such working moms are the least likely to be obese by middle age and the most likely to report generally good health."

Ack! As a SAHM, I hated reading that. Other bloggers who stay home with their kids found the news unsettling, too.

And in my case, it's just not true. Okay, so I may have had a slightly co-dependent relationship with the cookie jar, but I'm over that now. At 37, I'm healthier now than I was in my twenties. I'm certainly healthier now than I was six or seven years ago, when I was drinking, cursing, and carousing a lot. I don't drink every night anymore; instead, I run.

I highly recommend the drug of running. It's good for your head, your hips, and your heart. And I need a healthy heart because as a "mature mother," my main goal is to live to see this little girl grow up.

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