Long Week = Bad Eating

That's my equation, anyway. Guess what? I'm actually finally getting to take the certification course in "Nonviolent Crisis Prevention and Intervention" at work that I've been trying to take for three years.

It helps that one of my students assaulted another teacher last week, broke two of his fingers and tried to punch him. Thanks, Angel!

BTW, Angel is not really the student's name. I use the generic Angel when I discuss naughty students because I have never, in nearly 9 years of teaching, had a student named Angel who was, indeed, an Angel. Self-fulfilling prophesy my ass.

Every Angel I've ever known as a teacher was anything but angelic.

But anyway. So, it's been a long week for me, food wise, with bad weather and bad allergies and stress and too many things to do that got in the way of everything I needed to do

And so, because I am a highly functioning and well-educated woman with an understanding of skills for managing stress, I ate two bags of chocolate-covered pretzels, several caramel lattes, french fries, and many cheap grocery-store scones. And barely worked out. Oy.

Apparently, being trained as a mental health professional doesn't give you all the answers; who knew?

I refuse to beat myself up about it, though. Having a bad day, or a bad week, doesn't mean I'm a failure. Tomorrow I will go on my long run, making every contingency to head off any of my "yeah, but"s in the meantime. I'll take along extra jacket in case I say, "Yeah, but...it's too cold."

Sooooo, I'll take along gloves, the fully charged ipod, lots to drink, toilet paper, my inhaler...everything that might ordinarily make me turn back to the car (or never leave it in the first place.) I'm headed out for a 15-mile run tomorrow and a 70+ mile ride this Sunday. I need to get back on track.

Ironman Coeur D'Alene is 71 days away. It will be here before I know it. I must, must, must train more. I would like my finish to be a little less dramatic this time.

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