So the other day I acted like it was the end of the world because my toddler threw up one time and I had kind of a bad cough, and I should have just kept my damn mouth shut because immediately after that all hell broke loose. I need to just not say things anymore.
I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say I filled prescriptions for cough syrup, anti-nausea medication and a chewable probiotic…
and eye drops.
On Friday after the family quarantine was lifted, I ran four miles on the gym treadmill and then went for a dismal jog outdoors on Sunday, and I dutifully logged these both on my spreadsheet because remembering is hard.
|Monday||.5 mi warmup + weights||0.5|
|Tuesday||OFF + Green Flash Double Stout||0|
|Thursday||OFF + Left Hand Milk Stout||0|
|Friday||TM 4 mi progression||4|
|Saturday||OFF + Bell’s Winter White||0|
I was able to do the treadmill miles at ALMOST a 10:00 pace (like 10:06) but I still find it infinitely more difficult to duplicate that effort outdoors. My three miles outside were at more like a 10:30.
There were more beers than runs last week, which kind of makes me feel like a worthless piece of shit, but I’m telling myself that those several days I spent doctoring my kids and waking up every hour of the night earned me every drop (even though I would have drank the beer either way).
The Green Flash Double Stout was the front runner and the Left Hand Milk Stout was a close second. And since I’ve been drinking stouts almost exclusively lately, Saturday night I switched things up with a Bell’s Winter White Ale. It was very pleasant but it left me wanting something a little heavier.
As someone who doesn’t even like to carry my car keys with me on a run, the extra 15-20 pounds or so I’m still carrying is really annoying me. I feel like I’m wearing a lead jacket when I run. I’m making some progress, but it’s slow going. This week I hope to get serious and do at least 12 miles (um…typing that almost made me cry), hopefully more like 15.
And I’m on the hunt for the world’s best winter warmer.