Get these metal instruments OUT OF MY MOUTH!

On Wednesday, I ran. I ran with SoxFan and Ini for 2 miles, and it was great. It had rained earlier that day, and the temp had dropped by 10-20 degrees, so it was cool and wet out. I listened to my audiobook again, but this time I managed to do a better job of focusing on my breathing and my pace. My pace, therefore, was much more consistent: 13:08 for the first mile, and 13:10 for the second mile.

Yeah yeah... you may be laughing, but that's quick like lightning coming from me.

It was a great run. The kind of run that makes me remember why I like running. I felt strong and solid and tangible. I felt like I was working, but I wasn't breathless or exhausted. And then at one point I was breathless and exhausted, but I pushed through it and once again learned that I'm capable of more than I typically believe. It started to rain just before we got back to the house, and it felt amazing and real. Runs like this one make me want to go for more runs.

Yesterday, however, presented no opportunity for a run. It was a TERRIBLE day. Craziness at work, a skin-fold test (I brought this one on myself, I realize, but... oh, the humiliation) and, even worse, a dreaded trip to the dentist. Because I don't want to bore you with the minutia of my boring life, I won't go into the details at work. But, I have a few things to say about yesterday's other events.

First, the skin-fold test.
I'll start with the positive: the girl who did the test was very approachable and kind, and had all kinds of great things to say about the weight I've recently lost, my diet, and my running and boxing. She had lots of tips to help me stay on-plan and active, and was very encouraging. Also, my body fat percentage wasn't as high as I figured it would be.

I've only had it measured once before, and that was 4 years ago, and even then I'm not sure it was done correctly. But that time (bracing myself for being the laughing stock of the world), my body fat percentage was 44%. EEEK! I figured, since I haven't done a lot of weight-lifting and stuff, that my body composition probably hadn't changed, so going into the test, I was braced for the worst. BUT, this time I was only 35% body fat! That's great news, no?

Then I got to thinking. If I currently weigh 185lbs (wow, I must be brave today, sharing all this personal info), and I'm 35% body fat, that means I have 120.25lbs of lean mass. The goal weight I'd set for myself was 135lbs, but that means I'd only end up with 11% body fat. Is that even reasonable? Maybe it would be better to increase my goal weight? I don't know how this all works. When I picked a goal weight, I just tried to pick a weight somewhere in the middle of the "healthy" BMI range. Maybe that was my first mistake. Any ideas?

Anyway, on to the dentist. (dum dum dummmmm)
I have such a fear of the dentist that, when I was a little girl, I would worry myself into physical sickness in the days leading up to a trip to the dentist just to get my teeth cleaned, and thus my parents constantly had to reschedule my visits. I truly cannot remember a time, as a child, when I was able to go in for a check-up and leave with a happy report. I got pretty good at it, too. I knew all the hygienist's tells... I could tell when she'd found a cavity. I was 6. I have to suck nitrous oxide just to have my teeth cleaned. When a filling or root canal (or any kind of drilling) is necessary, I require nitrous oxide and Valium. It is truly the only way I can get in the door.

I blame this horrible dental luck on my mom's genes; she has always had the same problem that I have: weak teeth. I have to use special toothpaste with prescription strength fluoride, I brush 2-3 times a day, I don't drink pop, I don't eat candy, I don't chew gum... It seems nothing I do helps my teeth become stronger, and thus to this day, I dread going to the dentist with the same passion that most people dread an IRS audit.

So, I had nightmares earlier this week about my upcoming trip to have my teeth cleaned yesterday. And all day yesterday, I felt like I was marching to my death. But, it wasn't all that bad, in the end. As an adult, they're willing to really crank up the nitrous, to the point where I can hear people talking, but I can't make any sense of what they're saying. Everything seems to move in slow motion, yet my thoughts seem to come incredibly fast! It is quite bizarre. I know she must have been scratching and poking around in there with her pointy little metal instruments with some zest, however, because a couple of times I felt what seemed like pain... I started to shout out, but the nitrous haze was too thick... I eventually gave up and enjoyed the floaty feeling.

This hygienist was really friendly and generous with the nitrous. And she didn't even pester me about how often I floss.