Donut Cravings and Running Weirdness

I generally don't work on Fridays. During the school year, my husband teaches a class on Friday mornings, so part of my deal at my job is I'll work Saturdays so I can have Fridays off so we don't have to pay for a sitter. During the summer, when he doesn't have to teach, The Man is usually golfing on Friday mornings. In order to spend some time with his family, especially if he's playing in the evening, he schedules his tee time for fairly early in the morning. So he's usually back around the time SB's taking her nap so we have the afternoon together.

Which means that lately, when I wake up on Fridays, it's just me and SB. For some bizarre reason, every Friday I wake up craving sweets like a madwoman- particularly donuts. I'm a creature of habit and usually stick to my work day routine of a South Beach bar preworkout (like 4am) then eggs and potatoes from the cafe at work post workout. And on Saturdays and Sundays I'm usually able to stick to at least the South Beach bar upon waking part of it. But for some reason, on Fridays, I need something sweet.

And this morning was no different. I couldn't tell you the last time I had a donut. In the past, I've been able to tame my donut craving by either having some cookies or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but we had nothing here in the house that could suffice. But SB was uninterested in donuts (seriously, whose child is this??). Every time I asked her if she wanted to go to the donut store, she said no.

I should maybe mention here that there is a Dunkin Donuts at the end of my street. Maybe about a tenth of a mile away? But I have some crazy willpower and have probably been there a total of 3 times since we moved in 6 years ago. And I'm pretty sure at least 2 of those times were to get bagels for my friend Bucky and bring them to her at work. Yeah, I rock.

So I really wanted this donut. Today was a running day and I completely had myself convinced that I needed the energy from the donut to run. Fully aware that something like, oh, a baked potato or some pasta would probably be more efficient than a donut, my sneaky mind made me confident that I needed the immediate energy all the sugar would provide. And then the crash later would help when it was nap time. Oh yes, I had it all worked out. My body needed that donut. I couldn't function without it.

Anyway I suffered quietly all morning, begging Sophie every hour or two, until finally I told her we were going to Giant. To get donuts. She agreed.

By that time I kind of was over my craving, but I got a donut anyway. Even though she had originally said she didn't want one, SB decided to get one too. So once we got home and I put all the other groceries away, we sat down and ate our donuts.

Looking at SB's setup, I remember how something so simple like milk in a monkey cup with a straw, and a chocolate donut with sprinkles could be so comforting.

I know it's a huge no-no to look to food for comfort, but come on. Milk in a monkey cup. What could be better than that? I'm seriously thinking about going out and buying my own monkey cup to put my water in, since I'm not a huge milk drinker, and I don't do coffee. Maybe I'll get one of those special swirly straws, or one that changes color as the beverage goes through it.

Anyway, on a completely unrelated note...

...I have certain things that must be in place in order for me to have a successful run. My hair has to be completely pulled back tightly and off my face. I can have a ponytail with the hair bouncing around my neck, but no stray strands can be anywhere near my face or ears. If I'm on the treadmill, it can't squeak or rattle. It drives me nuts and that's all I think about. It can't shake, either. I have to be wearing completely tight clothes. If I'm at home on the treadmill, that means biker shorts or leggings and a cami top (over my sports bra, of course, not by itself). If I'm out in public, then I can deal with a kind of tight t-shirt. Nothing that hangs anywhere or droops or sags or bags or anything. My shoes have to be laced to equal tightness, and the laces can't bounce off or touch anything.

There's more, but because I know you're already calling me a freak I'm not going to go into the really weird ones. Some might call it excuses, but I don't, because if all those things are in place, which I make sure they are, then I do fine with my running. I can't remember the last time I quit in the middle of a run because of any of my little running needs weren't met. It just takes a little planning on my part.

The point of going into all this? No one sees me in my running garb at home. I'm way more conservative than to prance around in what could easily be mistaken for a unitard. I was on my way downstairs to run today when SB mentioned a toy that I had bought for her at Giant but had accidentally left in the truck. Without thinking I grabbed the keys and went outside to get the toy. On my way out, I noticed some random guy walking down my street looking at me weirdly. I figured he was just a nut and went on my way. Then on the way back in, two men standing in my next door neighbor's driveway (the Mexicans, not the Russian mafia) were staring at me.

It wasn't until I got inside that I realized what they were staring at. Leggings with a sports bra and a cami top. Not leaving much to the imagination. I guess some could say they kind of got a show. Personally, I feel sorry that they had to be exposed to that...that outfit was something no one should have to see!