story of my life

Had to hit the grocery store during lunch so I picked up one of those Amy’s microwaveable mayan somethingorothers from frozen organics (couldn’t find it online or I’d throw ya a link).

It was good but not filling at ALL. It had like 360 calories and I could have eaten three of them.

Good thing I picked up an iced Americano from SB’s to jack me up for the rest of the afternoon.

I’d planned to meet up with the crew from Girls Pint Out tonight for the last Indy tapping of Bell’s Batch 9000, but I had someone coming over to give me some more sweaty money for our entertainment center (who ended up not making it, by the way). Since I was already home and didn’t feel like driving across town again, I did the next best thing to drinking beer with chicks: went running by myself.

Too bad it SUCKED.

My legs did not want to work today and I spent the entire time cursing and adjusting my laces.

My left calf was tender all day, so I was a little apprehensive about running but I really wanted to so I did anyway.


I had the dead legs for pretty much the whole run. It was AGONY. These two old men jogged by me like they were floating on air and I sprinted up ahead of them just so I tackle them and throw them to the ground. (kidding, kidding.)

Instead of resorting to violence, I turned around early and came back home after three miles.

Naturally, my legs started feeling just fine as soon as I got back to my house (it’s the 5k curse, I tell you!). I guess I could have kept going, but, psychologically, I could not have handled that.

So to make up for wussing out on the run, I did a episode of Level 2 Jillian yoga. It was kind of interesting to do the routine after running because I could feel every tender muscle that was being stretched out by the poses. I felt a tad weaker than I normally do, but I still did pretty good. Still have not mastered crow pose, but I’ll let ya know.

Then, reward time: I cracked open St. Bernardus.

One of my homeboys at Crown Liquors in Avon told me it was the best beer he’d had in a while – a nice frothy quad Belgian with a cheeky friar on the label – what more could one want?

It’s pretty good. Not incredible. I admit I liked the look and color of it more than I liked the taste. I can appreciate any beer that you can set out in the sunshine and not be able to see the light of day through the glass.

This first Beer Advocate review is pretty spot-on, except I didn’t -fortunately!- experience the chunks of sediment this poor dude is reporting. It is bready and malty with hints of dark fruit, which -unfortunately!- are some of the things I despise.

Have I told you how much I hate prunes? So a plummy taste in a beer is just not my bag, baby. Nevertheless, I respect it. I just probably won’t buy it again.

Now, I have some chores to do. Barfo. Hope you guys are all having a FANTASTIC Wednesday night.

Peace –


6 thoughts on “story of my life

  1. Based on the title, I thought this was going to be the first chapter in your autobiography, so I was a bit disappointed. That’s bullshit that the guy didn’t show up, too. The run sounded lovely. The beer, I haven’t had that one. A lot darker than I was expecting so thanks for the photography lesson. Chores? You live on the Ingalls’ farm?

    BTW, I can do the crow!

  2. Wow, I am not going to even attempt that crow pose, though I love the beer selection. Call me lazy, but beer>crazy contortion. Props to Rob if he can do that though.

  3. Once upon a time I probably could have done crow pose. Now it would probably take me six months just to rebuild my wrists and elbows to attempt it. (L wrist still weak from being in a cast after my thumb incident; both wrists and elbows still not 100% after a motorcycle get-off ~6 years ago.)

    But I think it’s possible, if by some miracle I lost a good portion of my gut and thereby put my center of gravity a bit higher up toward my chest again. For women, the CG tends to be lower toward the hips, so I’d guess that makes it harder.

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