I read somewhere that the liver is evil and it should be punished. Last night was girl's night out and my friend Stacie and her friend Jennifer also felt their livers needed to be punished. So we went out. I drank a couple of Smithwyck's ales and several glasses of Somona Cutrer.Yum. Double yum at the time. Stacie stuck with her Michelob lites--blah-- and Jennifer, well, she drank 16oz PBR's--- in a can. Blech, but it sure garnered her a lot of male attention. Hot girl drinking PBR does it for a lot of guys. Who knew?
Yeah, it was a fun night. The morning however. . .
Let's just say I think my liver and I have reached a sort of understanding and it promises never to be evil again if I promise to stick to my rule of NEVER having more than 4 drinks.Oh. My. God. I am fucking OLD.
Lucky for me Bubbles and Poppy came and took the kids to park all day. Thank you, thank you. Big Christmas presents for you both next year.
It was an absolutely fabulous day and despite my throbbing headache (for which I wouldn't take anything for as my liver had been punished enough) I felt the need to go running. I definitely could have taken the day off as I have run every day this week. In fact, I cannot remember the last day I did not run. But I feel guilty when given the opportunity to run and I don't take it. I just can't sit in inside on a beautiful day no matter how bad I feel.
From my house my shortest route is 6.5 miles and it is a hilly 6.5. Sure there are shorter ways and I could do point to point but I like sidewalks and I like to do loop runs. What I really wanted was a flat, easy 4 mile run today, but for flat I have to drive at least 30 minutes and that just isn't worth it for a short run.
The first mile was hell. My back was sore from showing off my limberness on the dance floor and my calves ached from dancing in 3" boots (also not recommended). I couldn't find my sunglasses so the sun was killing me and even though it was warm I felt cold. Just miserable and old.
I did warm up after the first mile and enjoyed the next mile and half of downhill. My pace was slow but steady. My head was still throbbing: the little hammer knocking against the backside of my eyes with each footfall convinced me that a brain aneurysm was imminent. Still, I thought, I can do this and inspired myself with my own preserverance. Bill Berry lived, so would I. I am. I am. I am Super[Nat]. And I can do anything. . .
Then I hit my first big up hill. It is long and tough. And so the walking started-- along with the self doubt and stomach queasiness. Down the hill as I went up it came this ultra fit, ultra tan and ultra blond woman. She had headphones on (not earbuds mind you, Walkman headphones) and was walking and reading a book-- out loud and gesturing with her hands. Just not something you see everyday in quiet suburbia. She looked me dead in the eye, never slowing as we passed and said something. What? I have no idea. I really think I might have been hallucinating. It was totally weird.
After that hill I ran the rest of the way and finally around the middle of mile 5 my headache lifted and I began to feel human again. So while the run completely sucked, I finished it in 57 minutes--almost 10 minutes slower than my usual time, it did make me feel better, not great, just better.
Best of all, it put me at 42 miles for the week.
Not too bad for a lush with an evil liver.