Maybe in May

It's May already. The new normal indicates that life will never slow down again, but rather increasingly accelerate toward infinity. Therefore, look back at your own peril. We're already losing time to make up lost ground. Here's April's statistical rundown:

• Total Miles: 12 miles (5 runs)
• Total Time: 2.99 hours
• Highest Weekly: 6 miles
• Average Weekly: 3 miles
• Average Pace: 13:25/mile
• The Monthly Dif: +6

If you're up on your math skills, you'll see that I doubled last month's mileage, which impresses exactly no one. Despite recent trends, I'm feeling hopeful for May's running.

Well, at least for this week.

With an average of 1.25 runs per week, it's hard to gain any sort of momentum. Regular runs early this month started to result in improved times, but still it wasn't enough to effect change on the bathroom scale.

Mrs. Viper dropped some knowledge on me last night, telling me she's observed why I've gained more weight than she has during her pregnancy. To wit, when I stop running, I start eating like a trash compactor.

She had heard tales of my prodigious appetite, but had only really witnessed it in the form of snacking. I'll take down a bag of chips in record time. But those used to be isolated instances, whereas my current habits have exacerbated this quality.

In college, I developed a bit of a reputation among friends and family of being able to eat A LOT without really showing signs of it on my frame.

By the time Mrs. Viper and I met, however, my appetite had become less gargantuan, which can probably be traced to the fact that I was conscientious about what I was eating to fuel my body for running.

It's not that I'm eating particularly unhealthily right now, she said, but I'm eating way more. I'm having a hard time with portion control. Maybe this will be a turning point.