How to stop evening snack attacks

Go to bed at 6 p.m.

Am I too old to both train for a half-marathon and live a normal life? Perhaps I am.

I started the weekly long run at 10:20 a.m. and finished at noon-ish – seven miles in 98 minutes, to be precise. Did two loads of laundry in the afternoon and watched a basketball game. Made and ate dinner [homemade chicken noodle soup – whole wheat noodles and defatted broth with toasted cheese sandwiches – whole wheat, sugar-free bread and low-fat pepperjack cheese]. I told Mr. Shrinking Knitter I was going to rest for a bit after dinner and the next thing I knew it was 6:40 a.m.

I should be raring to go today, eh?

I had to run on the treadmill this week. The temperature was somewhere around 20 degrees at 10 a.m., and the wind was fierce. I found a movie on Showtime called House of D which looked interesting enough to keep my feet moving for a couple hours, and it did the trick. After five miles I was wishing time was up, but I kept putting one foot in front of the other and got 'er done. No runner's high for me yesterday, that's for sure.

I swear I didn't know 'House of D' stood for House of Detention when I started watching the film. It's a sweet little coming-of-age piece, written, directed and starring David Duchovny. Most of the movie takes place in New York's Greenwich Village when Duchovny's character is a 13-year-old boy. The plot turns with the advice an inmate at a women's prison offers young Tommy.

It just figures I would end up watching a story about a women's prison, doesn't it?

I'm positive Tommy's mother was played by Meredith Baxter, but she's not listed in the credits and I wasn't paying attention when they rolled them as the movie ended. I think I was probably melted to the treadmill track at that point.

Anyway, it's done, over, in the can, finished and today is a new day. I'm not sore, I have tons o' energy [so far, anyway, but it's early] and I think I'll do a little rowing machine and weight-training work today after all.

One rest day a week is plenty, don't you think?

Eighty-three days until race day.