As a blogger, I know I leave much to be desired. There’s no continuity, no consistency and if you are a decent human being, I will most likely offend you at some point. But if you’ve been reading this mess for more than five minutes, my dontgiveafuckedness on this holiest lets-eat-ourselves-sick-and-post-on-facebook-how-thankful-we-are of holidays shouldn’t surprise you and I hope that’s the reason the four of you keep coming back.
This week I am thankful for the luxury of not having to entertain any guests or meet any quota of Thanksgiving-related blog posts. I’m thankful for not being nine-and-a-quarter months pregnant and for actually having room in my body cavity in which to cram obnoxious amounts of turkey and bourbon, and I’m thankful I don’t have to go into a job on Friday where my office is a closet right next to the break room and I have to smell everybody’s leftover Thanksgiving crap re-heating in the microwave.
The truth will set you free.
In running news, running’s been going okay for me. I managed to do 20 miles last week – including my fastest 10k and 6.437k ever – before I took unscheduled rest days on Saturday and Sunday when the entire family came down with the flu. Luckily the baby got a flu shot this year (EAT SHIT YOU VACCINATION CONSPIRACY THEORIST NUTJOBBERS! WESTERN MEDICINE! SCIENCE!) but my husband and I were stupid, stupid, stupid and did not deign to get one ourselves. So baby only yakked once (it was still the scariest thing ever), husband yakked twice (while he was out of town helping his mom move! FUN!) and I was the winner with a grand total of four projectile-esque yakkings, fever, body aches, explosive diarrhea and now, inexplicably, a toothache. I spent all day Saturday indeed actually basically quite literally crawling on the floor after the baby because I was too weak to stand. It was a nightmare.
Also, my heretofore indomitable milk supply took a dump because I didn’t eat or drink anything for almost 24 hours. (But I lost three pounds so it was totes worth it!) [Ooopsie! Trigger warning!]
No, but I’ve been halfheartedly eating oatmeal and wholeheartedly drinking dark beer to help boost it back up. I’m pretty much ready to call it quitsies on the breastfeeding anyway so I’m not really stressing over it.
Last thing, and then I promise I’ll leave you to stew peacefully in all the unpleasant imagery I’ve just painted here. On Thanksgiving I usually do the 4.5 mile Drumstick Dash on the other (more hip) side of town, but this year it just seems like a colossal waste of time to drive 40 minutes there and 40 minutes back to run about 40 minutes (give or take). So I’m doing a quaint little Gobble Gallop 5k that is taking place half a mile from my house. I can run there, and it’ll be warm enough that I can even schlep the poor baby along with me.
I’m slower with the jogging stroller. I am pathetically, hysterically slower with the stroller, but I am improving. I can do a 5k without the stroller in under 27 minutes now, so I’d like to do it with the stroller in under 30:00. I know, I know, I know: I may have opined in a blog post on this day last year that you are awful if you gun for a PR at a turkey trot but blow me, okay? I don’t have a lot of chances to legitimately race with the stroller thing, so I’m going with it.
What are you really thankful for?