Oy Vey

My sudden, irrational desire to smack one G. the Meanie comes from two sources:

1. The fact that about 15 minutes ago, he ordered me to do a five-mile run this weekend, and,
2. Raging hormones causing mood swings that would make you seasick.

If last night's scarf-induced hissy fit didn't convince you that May 2010 is a particularly bad month for me, PMS-wise, then this will. I want to cry right now, and I want to scream at Mr. Fitness is My Life that five miles is just too much to ask right now. Ask next week, but today? Gah.

And yes, G., I understand your frustration that I'm still stubbornly stuck at 164 pounds. After all, it's my body. But a five-mile run isn't going to help because newsflash: I'm not going to run the whole way.

Ever since G. and I ran three miles together during one of my appointments, he is convinced that every single time I go out there, I should be able to do that without problems. Well, he's not occupying my brain, or my shins. He hasn't, in the last year, dropped almost 60 pounds and had to completely reconfigure his whole lifestyle...and he hasn't had to wait for his brain to catch up. I still really think of myself sometimes as the Fat Girl who is pitiful at running. It's getting better, but give me a break here. Five miles?

The little shit had the audacity to say, "Piece of cake."

I managed to refrain from embarassing myself by crying, or screaming something really rude, or telling him to shove his five miles where the sun don't shine. I gave him a mock salute and a clipped, "Have a great weekend!" as I stomped off to the locker room. A few minutes later, I gave him a terse, "I. Will. Try." as I left the gym. Though he will have to be happy with things if I don't get around to trying until Tuesday, because the next few days are kind of busy and I was hoping to save tomorrow for some relaxation time.

My whole body is drenched with sweat. Thank heavens I thought to leave the A/C running before I left for the gym.

Now, if I can just make it through Scarfapallooza tonight with my dignity intact, I will return home to a glass of wine, and a well-deserved lie-in tomorrow morning.