Temper tantrums are appropriate at my age, right?

Today's run:
Half Marathon Training Week Two, Day Three
4.37 miles/1:00:26

I felt pretty good about this run.  I kept my speed up pretty well, I didn't die even though it was insanely humid, and I fantasized about ice water instead of ice cream for the last 15 minutes of the run.  Plus, today's run was a good mix of terrains.  I started on the trail, but we've been having lots of rain lately, so it was pretty muddy.  I'm relatively sure each of my shoes had an extra pound of mud on them after about five minutes. But about a mile and a half into my run, I reached a point in the trail that was just too slippery, so I headed back and finished the run on the pavement, running the neighborhood.  My favorite.  

But after the run was over, and I'd guzzled a whole big bottle of icy water and taken a shower, I felt insanely proud.  Like, disgustingly cocky.  I felt goooooooood.

Then I read Skinny Runner and saw that she ran 7.75 miles in 60 minutes.  Then I just felt grumpy.

Okay, that's not true.  I'm grumpy because I'm having an I-WANT-TO-EAT-EVERYTHING-NOT-NAILED-DOWN-TO-THE-FLOOR-BECAUSE-I'M-STRESSED day.  It's 10:30 at night and I'm seriously considering going to the store to buy chips and salsa and approximately eight pounds of cookies.  Not sure on why eight pounds... it just feels right.

But I promise, lovely readers, that I will not go buy chips and salsa at 10:30 a night, nor a single pound of cookies.  Partially because I'm lazy (okay, maybe mostly because I'm lazy), but also because aren't I supposed to be running for bikinis?  Bikinis and cookies don't get along well.  

See?  No cookies here.

Okay.  I have nothing constructive to say.  Given half a shot right now, I'd throw myself on the ground kicking and screaming and crying about how much I want the calories inhaled during binge eating sessions late at night didn't count.  And then maybe I'd suck my thumb and ask for my mommy.  Because I am a classy and mature lady.

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