I’m going to preface this post with a quick rant:
The roads in my neighborhood are still in really bad shape. On top of the ice that was never sanded or salted, they didn’t get around to plowing the additional five-inch snow accumulation until three days after the storm, making the entire neighborhood a lumpy, bumpy disaster area. Driving, I still skid the last 10 yards to the stop sign and fishtail at every turn. Ridiculous.
I understand that secondary roads aren’t touched by city/county plows, but we pay home owner’s association fees that are supposed to cover the cost for this type of maintenance. And really, our HOA fees are very, very low, so I’m willing to take that into consideration. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that there’s really no point in plowing three days after the fact, when all the snow has already been packed down.
So last night after work, I was all set to head out to Eagle Creek and do six miles or so. The roads there are in infinitely better shape than the ones in my ‘hood, and it’s right down the street from my office. It wasn’t until I got into the restroom to change clothes at 5:00 that I realized I’d forgotten my running jacket and headlamp. (Coincidentally, I also left my purse, phone, driver license, money and most importantly CHAPSTICK at home yesterday.)
I was lucky to make it out the door with pants on.
It might seem like I’m building up to one of those triumphant stories where I suck it up and go running anyway, sans jacket and lamp; or maybe brave the streets of my treacherous neighborhood, but…I’m not.
It was 10 freaking degrees outside and I said to hell with it. I banged out a Level 3 Shred in the living room and called it a day.
How’s that for inspiration?
I also didn’t have a beer last night. (I know, I know, this blog is headed straight for the gutter.)
My poor, sweet friend Kate (who I ran with on Sunday) came down with a case of the swines (did you know that was even still a thing?), and in an uncharacteristic fit of paranoia, I opted to drink Emergen-C instead. I don’t have any symptoms yet, but you can’t be too careful.
Luckily, I did have a great beer last week that I haven’t had a chance to tell you about yet.
This was my LAST beer from beer trade #2, and I cracked it open Friday after work while it was still light outside.
Weyerbacher’s 9% ABV Double Simcoe IPA, using only – guess what?! – the Simcoe brand of hops, known especially for their bitter bite and piney aroma.
Strong aroma of pine and citrus. Intensely hoppy; a nice malty undertone smooths it out. Easy to drink given the ABV, and it has a nice, clean finish with no bitter aftertaste.
Tonight, I really am running. I checked my bag three times before I left the house.