life is perfect, never better, distance making the heart grow fond

Immediately after completing the half marathon last month my thoughts turned to planning the next race. I looked up the national schedule for all major half and full marathon races and was disheartened to see there wouldn't be any in the southeast until fall, except for the "Twisted Ankle Trail Marathon" somewhere in Georgia in June. Me + ankles + trails has always added up to unpleasant results in the past so I don't think I'll be signing up for that one.

There's a very German-themed race one town over from where my grandmother lives in Pennsylvania (lederhosen are optional) that I thought I could try, but that too, is out of the question because of timing. The hubby and I are finally honestly for real moving to Georgia next month, about a week before this race would be taking place. So without a definite race in my near future, my running is back in "maintenance mode," if that.

I say "if that" because running doesn't really happen when it's 95, muggy, and the baby is way off her routine because of driving, weddings, and having to share a seedy hotel room with Mommy and Daddy. We logged a sweaty 3 miles today when the sun was close to setting, but that's all I've done running-wise this weekend. I have a potential date with a treadmill tomorrow though, so hopefully these legs won't rust in this humidity and I won't go insane. Because the insanity that allows me to run outdoors in this disgusting pre-summer weather (or like a hamster on its wheel at the gym) is far easier to cope with than the insanity I'd suffer if I weren't able to run at all.

PS I'm so over traveling and carseats and not seeing my husband more than 2 or 3 days a week. And why do dogs need to come down with inexplicable bouts of diarrhea as soon as I cross into another state? And why haven't I received any phone calls about showings on our house this weekend?? And I don't even know what I'm going to do for work once we are here. I keep praying the house will sell and finding a job won't be such a pressing issue, but no such luck. In the meantime, Zac already organized a sit-down at a great daycare, which is fantastic and all but shouldn't I be employed if Alexis is to go there? I don't care how cute she is pinning other babies to the floor, she's not getting enrolled 'til mommy's on someone's payroll.

And Zac wonders why I've been freaking out. Or how something as minor as missing a workout can drive me over the edge.

I'm doing the best I can to seem reasonable and in control, but really, I'm Tracy Bonham screaming "EVERYTHING'S FINE!"

Which is why I run. Because even when I have to turn around and come back, for a little while those miles provide a nice wedge between everything I don't want to deal with and my mind's current inability to cope. I'm not going to be able to make any changes to our situation. Can't make the calendar pages turn any faster.