bloody socks and BBQ

Number of sea salt brownie bites I ate before running last night: 7
Number of how much I did NOT want to go running: 35435213524
Number of miles I ran: 4
Number of miles that felt horrible:surprisingly, 0

I took it easy and came in around 38 minutes. Seems like whether I try hard or not, it’s always around 38 minutes. So why bother trying hard, am I right?

I tried out my Garmin heart rate monitor for the first time. It’s been sitting in a desk drawer since I got it, but I want to take my training TO TEH NEXT LEVELZ and thought I should make use of the damn thing.

My heart rate hovered in the 150-160 range for the first couple of miles, then shot up to the high 160s in the third mile. In my fourth (and fastest) mile, it went back down to 160.

I have no idea what any of this means. Write me a novel about THR in the comments.

I also experienced the misfortune of cutting my middle toe on the, um, extra long toenail next to it, which is the answer to last night’s trivia question, you know your toenails are too long when… (Shut up, you’ve done it too.)

I didn’t notice it while I was running, but when I took off my shoes back at the house, my sock was a little bloody. Just a little. I like my socks like I like my steak.

Speaking of meat, we finished off that pork shoulder last night with some pulled pork sandwiches and cole slaw. (I’d show you the picture but frankly, it didn’t really look all that good on the plate and to be honest, I’m sick of bloggers going, “I know it doesn’t look that appetizing but TRUST ME IT WAS AMAAAZING!” Why should I trust you? And why do you care if I think your meal looks appetizing? Just eat it and shut up.)

Also, did you catch that sweet segue back there? People, it takes a seriously talented writer to segue that seamlessly from bloody socks into pulled pork. You should be thanking me right now.

Anyway, the pork shoulder was not a grass-fed pork shoulder and the pig was not raised locally, and you know what? It tasted FANTASTIC. Fact: Sad pigs just taste better. The tears make it extra salty.

Last, this week marks the 40th Anniversary of Country Roads. Get into it. Again. Or for the first time.


27 thoughts on “bloody socks and BBQ

  1. The numbers on the HRM aren’t too useful until you’ve worn the monitor with some consistency at different efforts. For all the advice out there about getting to your max? I think the best way to get an idea of your max is to run a balls out 5k and see what your highest reading is – then you’ll get a better idea of where your zones lie and the numbers will make more sense and show you things like whether you’re working too hard/not hard enough, etc. I haven’t been wearing mine much recently, but for a good couple years I wore it almost every run so I have a LOT of numbers to base my assumptions off of.

    How is that novel I’ve been working on? ::stewie voice::

    Also, I have holes in my Kinvaras from my too long toenails. Runners are gross.

    • Gotta a big, uh, big stack of papers there? Gotta, gotta nice little story you’re working on there? Your big novel you’ve been working on for three years? Huh? Gotta, gotta compelling protagonist? Yeah? Got an obstacle for him to overcome? Huh? Gotta story brewing there? Working on, working on that for quite some time? Huh?

      Thanks…I figured one reading wouldn’t tell me jack. All I know about heart rate is that when Hannibal Lecter ate that chick’s face his pulse never got above 85…even when he ate her tongue. That’s impressive.

  2. Um I kinda love John Denver. Know all the words too…. 😉

    Sometimes the hardest part of running is just getting OUT there and doing it!

  3. Your comment about the sad pigs reminds me of some of my favorite song lyrics of all time, “A lap dance is so much better when the stripper is crying.”

  4. So I think black nail polish was in style when I was in high school or middle school (all the girls wore the Chanel brand too, rich bitches) and then again like a year or two ago (you know you’re old when you see nail polish go in and out of style and then back in). Luckily I hopped on the semi-goth bandwagon and bought a bottle. Black toe nails? If you can’t beat ’em, at least have all 10 piggies matching.

    • I think this is from D-Listed: “I tried to be goth for a quick minute, but it didn’t work out. I just didn’t have that whole sad, dead clown act down.” But right you are – I try to keep my toes pedied up all summer out of respect for those who have to look at my feet.

  5. Unless you’re serving carrot sticks on whole wheat bread with a side of condom I mean condiment for dipping, your ugly meal tastes like shit.

    But HEY! In other news, last night I discovered, upon looking at my toenails for what may have been the first time in a long time, that mine were too long too! Like, Indian guy who set the world record for having long toenails long! Like, jaundiced yellow and creaky long! Twins!

    • Oh hey! And some totally disgusting combination of food that you swear tastes amazing, like chocolate syrup and thousand island dressing.

      All the better to swipe up baby mice and carry them back to the nest.

  6. Sounds to me like you were running at one intensity during your first to miles, and then ran at a higher intensity during your third mile, and then ran your first intensity for the last mile.

  7. Sea salt on chocolate is amazing. I got sea salt chocolate carmels for Christmas, and I thought they looked weird. Then I tasted them. Bliss…

  8. aw, a John Denver shout-out!!?? I bloody adore him. Just love. His music is my prozac, it seriously puts me in a fantastic mood in an instant.

    Speaking of things I bloody adore, is your bloody sock segue into pork. I think I just failed at trying to do a segue right there. Maybe I should stick with Segways. A la GOB Bluth.

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