Veggie Tales

I did something this weekend I hardly ever do: I bought broccoli.

I have no clue why. Call it a mad impulse, if you will. An act of temporary insanity brought on my the alarming lack of phytochemicals in my system.

I currently have in my refrigerator in a state of semi-rot, the following forlorn veggies: green peppers, romaine lettuce, mushrooms, zucchini, carrots, cucumber and cauilflower. I also have some very freeze-addled peas lounging in the freezer. Added now to this motley collection is my arch-nemisis, the aforementioned brocolli.

I have no problem with fruit. Fruit is aesthetically pleasing. Fruit is portable and does not require cooking. Fruit is sweet! Exhibit A:

It's just the veggies that continue to elude me gastronimically. They are oddly shaped and shame me with my inability to cook them into anything other than mush. I just don't see eye to eye with them. They are from Mars, I am from Venus. There is no meeting of the minds between us. We need an interpreter. We need a neutral third party to mediate. I'm thinking the United Nations of Tempura Batter might help.

At least my veggie shopping was a workout. I've finally figured out a grocery-hauling system that works to my satisfaction. I submit Exhibit B:

The only problem came when I unloaded one side and the bike promptly fell over. The only casualties, though, were some bruised strawberries. That just means I have to eat them sooner, is all.

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In other news, I bought a pedometer to see if this will help motivate me to exercise on the days I don't run.

This weekend I ran 6.1 miles for the first time, in 75 minutes. That's a 12:17 pace, according to the pace calculator.

The next morning I ran 3 miles for the first time in a group of other women. They were doing a run/walk session of 5 minutes running and 1 minute walking, which was interesting for me. The women completed a marathon last winter this way.

My knees hurt the rest of the weekend, and my hamstrings were incredibly tight. I was hobbling around everywhere. I'm going to try a Pilates class this week, just for kicks.

And then the weirdest thing happened. All this time I've been running, my clothes have still fit the same. I haven't seen a noticable difference in any of my pants or skirts, which are mostly size 14. But this weekend I went clothes shopping for the first time in over a year for some new skirts, and I had to go down to a size 10 in all of them to find a good fit.

I don't understand why my own clothes fit the same, but new clothes don't. Weird. In perhaps a positive way, but weird nevertheless.