Fit Mummy

My scales are being unreliable again. I thought I'd done quite well with food and exercise while in Fat Town, USA (ATL), but it seems I gained some. As I said to my friend Driven Journalist, this happens in the US because they try to 'ambush' you with hidden fats. Like adding bacon, and cheese to salads. Or big fat fried croutons. At one restaurant I order a dish which the menu said contained fresh crabmeat. What it didn't say was that it was smothered with mayonnaise. This is why you get the When Harry Met Sally situation. "I'd like a salad, with chicken, not fried, avocado, and extra cherry tomatoes, no dressing please, and a teaspoon of mayo on the side. Absolutely NO croutons, and NO cheese. And can you make sure that the lettuce is the dark green variety. Thanks."
Of course the Oreo cookie milkshake was an obvious ambush, but one that quite frankly had to be tasted to be believed. Awesome.
Anyway, you don't need scales when you can see the changes to your body just by looking in the mirror, and seeing how your clothes fit. My arms - which my ex- boyfriend (no prizes for guessing why) used to say were like 'Mummy Arms' - the definition being fat with wings - no longer flap when I wave, and are beginning to look nice and toned. My arms are one of the primary indicators for weight gain on my body. I've always had slim arms, and a slim upper body, so if I have weight on those areas, there's no denying I'm on the fast-track to Lardsville.
My stomach muscles are starting to re-form, and the 'paunch' beginning to dissipate. Oh, and Clarke says the cellulite on 'one' of my legs is getting better. She thinks I worry about my weight too much, and that I look alright as I am. "I'd rather you were a fit mummy, than a skinny mummy."
Raising a girl-child, you have to be careful about the messages you send to them about weight, and food. My issue with food, is that I tend to use it as a comfort, and reward. Crap day at the coalface? Big, tasty, dinner. At home alone on Friday night, cakes and ice-cream. Now my focus is on healthy eating, and taking regular exercise, not silly diets which don't work. Yes I mean you Atkins!
Signs are it's filtering through because Clarke hates oily food, loves fruit and vegetables, and is happy to accompany me on her bike when I go for a run, cheering me on whilst pretending I am Paula Radcliffe.
I got a leaflet for the Nike 10k. I may enter that, as it's in a couple of months. Training runs start soon, but the question is, am I ready to embarrass myself by running in public alongside the superfit?