Trying not to whine or wine

Last night I joined my husband anf friends to check out the Alvin Ailey Dance Company. I must admit that I am more mesmerized by the dancers impeccable physiques than I am the dancing. These dancers do amazing things with their bodies. I always wanted to be a dancer when I was kid. We couldn't afford dance lessons, and as rhymithically challenged as I am, it wasn't coming naturally. So, I do what every parent who never fulfilled a childhood dream does--I force my kids to do it for me! Both of my girls spend their Saturday afternoons doing plies and pata-beres, while I peer through the two way mirror and pretend that I'm a 7 year old prima ballerina. Don't judge me!

Anyway, during intermission it was suggested that we get a drink. I must admit that the thought of a soothing glass of crushed red grapes was calling like Pookie to crack. As I lept from my seat to run to the bar, my husband grabbed my arm and said "should you be drinking wine, athlete?" I wanted to to take my heels and dig them into his foot. How dare he question my wine consumption! How dare he use the word "athlete" so facetiously when talking to me! I am an athlete, dammit. Didn't I run 4 miles 2 days ago? haven't I been hauling my out of bed at 5 in the morning to get to the gym? Take a public shower? Don't I wear spandex? All characteristics of an athlete. And yet I am mocked because I want to sip a little wine to unwind. I promised myself that i wouldn't whine as I embarked on this adventure. I knew that it would be hard and that sacrafice was inevitable. Whining was not going to make it any more bearable. However, my experience has shown that wining (a sweet reisling) always makes things better, at least while you're sipping and the few hours that follow, and during that deep sleep.......... Sorry, I drifted off for a moment. Therein lies the rub. Wining weakens my defenses and makes we want to curl up in my bed and dream. Wining forces me to realize that running 26.2 miles is probably as goofy as me dancing in my kids' recital. Wining is totally counter-productive to getting up and donning spandex and hiting the gym! To get all Jesse Jackson with it, "I can't win with wine" (well it doesn't rhyme but you get the the point). So, I am committed to no whining anout no wining, and no wining on nights before a run. That seems fair right?