wallowing in my own filth and loving it

Good news: turns out I can sleep in, wear pajamas all day, take an afternoon run, drink beer, watch movies, crank out some measly waste of a blog post and still not feel like a total ass of a human being.

Now I know why so many people are trying to be bloggers.

But seriously, I know a bunch of you had to go to work yesterday (suckers!), and a bunch more of you had to go back today, so I hope you won’t hate me for saying that I am enjoying the hell out of my stay-cay (which, by the way, is a word I swore I’d never use but since I’ve lowered my standards in every other regard this week, I thought I’d go with it).

I went for a run this afternoon, and it would have been absolutely glorious if it hadn’t been for all the everloving snow.

It was warm; high 20s, and I was actually overdressed in pants, compression socks, sleeves, short-sleeve tech shirt and windbreaker. Luckily (do I say this sarcastically?) it was windy on the way back and I cooled right off.

I did five-ish miles at a 10:00 pace and felt okay. I’ve complained before about how the plows neglect our neighborhood; our street in particular. So I picked my way through puddles, lumps of snow and sheets of ice. It’s a great way to sprain an ankle, pull a groin or maybe if you’re lucky just fall smack on your ass.

I’m averaging a 10:00 on my mid-distance runs, but it still feels sloppy to me. I’d like to get to the point where I’m consistently doing two or three five to six mile runs at a 10:00 pace during the week, and a longer run at a 10:30 pace on Saturday or Sunday. That would make me happy. Snoogins.

Anyway, I know I promised you a big fat holiday beer recap, but I’m already rambling as it is, so I think that will have to wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, you get the Rabbit.

I am drinking Three Floyd’s Rabbid (no, that’s not a misspelling) Rabbit Saison (7.4% ABV/25 IBU).

The background of this picture is almost as interesting as the foreground, no?

But let’s take a closer look at the dope artwork on this bottle:

Sidenote: each Three Floyd’s brew is a persona. There’s the King, the Rabbit, the Gumball Head, the Dreadnaught (that’s a pirate, dummy), and so on. Neat, huh?

There are several hypotheses about the origin of saison; but here’s the gist: it means “season,” and they were traditionally brewed from November to March and may also be referred to as a farmhouse ale.

My new awesome book, Tasting Beer, says some of the stronger saisons are brewed with sugar to improve drinkability; Rabbid Rabbit is brewed with rock candy. So there you go.

This has never been my favorite style of beer, but once again Three Floyds topples my notion of saisons right on its flabby ass.

I always thought saison meant spicy, which is how this beer tastes. It’s brewed with chamomile so its aromatic, but light. I’m also getting your typical spices like cloves and coriander. Me likey.

Tomorrow: afternoon trail run. I usually don’t run two days in a row, but I feel like it would be disrespectful of the stay-cay not to take advantage of daylight running hours.

And it makes the beer taste oh so good…

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6 thoughts on “wallowing in my own filth and loving it

  1. I sort of hate you right now. Stay-cay… COME ON!!!

    And you reminded me with your mentioning of compression socks- my mom was so sad that she searched high and low for compression socks for me (she doesn’t do the online thing). I thought it was cute. But I’m still sockless. Dang…

  2. Jealous, even though I only have a two day work week I kind of wish I was still at home boozing heavily with inappropriate people (oh hey ex fiance). I’ll just overlook your use of the word stay cay..

  3. I’m off all week too and we seem to be on the same schedule. I’m about to take my afternoon nap, and I haven’t gotten out of bed before 10 all week. I’m starting to have concerns about getting back on my work schedule but ehhhh….screw it. I could get used to this. Always said I’d make a great trophey wife : )

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