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Today Might be the Best Day Ever

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It was the best of weeks, it was the worst of weeks. Before I get all Dickens on yo’ asses, let me explain.

Last Sunday I ran 8 miles and I felt FANTASTIC. I was all like, sheeet, I can just keep running. I got this. 13.1 miles got nuttin on me! I am going to OWN THIS HALF MARATHON.

Then I caught the death cold. Not just any old cold. No. Mere snuffly noses and tickley throats are for people with far better luck than I. I got the ‘can’t lift my head off the pillow, you can have my autographed Wheatus CD, take care of the kids’ cold. I called off work. Two days in a ROW. Ya. THAT sick.

Needless to say, I didn’t do much running. I basically spent the entire week telling everyone  I saw how sick I was. I was proud of my sickness. I lived, dammit, I made it through. I imagine I felt a lot like the people who lived through The Depression felt, only without all that pesky no money, no food stuff.

I was also dealing with this while Casey was gone till all hours of the night (9:30 pm), manning his booth at the Home and Garden Show. Between my death cold and Casey being gone, the entire week went by without a run.

It’s hard to explain the strange sort of funk this put me in. I set this goal for myself, and I was working SO hard to achieve it, and then – brick wall. In five days I managed to go from running almost everyday to not running once. In order to get really good and funky, I started eating like crap, almost to punish myself. ‘Can’t run today, self? Hm? Still all sicky wicky with your coldy woldy? HERE. Eat a can of Easy Cheez. It will patch you right up!’

Yes, in five days I went from being a world class athlete in the mind of no one but myself, to hate-eating processed foods.

By Friday I had it with myself. Even I was getting sick of hearing about how sick how I was; I can’t even imagine how everyone else felt. I was taking this funk by the horns. If funks even have horns. I’m actually not sure if they do. Regardless. I was wiping this bugger out and that was THAT.

I decided to do two things on Sunday to make me feel better: Do my 8 mile run with my running group, and go to the ballet. Everyone knows if you want to go big you need two things, a long distance run and people jumping around stage in their underpants.

I could feel the power of my positive decision making coursing through my veins (may have been the red wine) as I laid out my running gear last night. I was going to meet my running group at 7:30 am and DO THIS. That’s right. 7:30. In the morni….wait. It’s day light savings time? So really 7:30 is 6:30. So basically you’re telling me that I’m getting up at 5:30 am to go run 8 miles after not running all week? Where is my Easy Cheez?

I kid. While it was a little rough this morning, I did it. And holy shit am I glad I did. We ran all over downtown Pittsburgh, and it was the best run I have ever had in my life. I made my 8 miles, and I was treated to the absolute best the Burgh has to offer. The views were stupendous:

The view of my gorgeous city from my run, somewhere by Station Square.

The few of the river, one of them, can't remember which, cause we have like a zillion, from the West End Bridge.

And then I came home, had snuggle time with the kiddos, showered, got all hotted up, and went to a fancy girl date downtown with my friend Shawna:

Super fancy ladies out for brunch and ballet. And wine. DUH.

We had brunch at Six Penn Kitchen (I burned over a 1000 calories during my AM run. That’s a LOTTA brunch) and then went to see the Sunday show of A Street Car Named Desire at the Pittsburgh Ballet Theater. And while we did that, Jones got to go to the park with his big brother Kyle:

I get this picture text as I'm walking into the ballet, captioned 'Bad Ass Jones'. It was too cute to even yell at Kyle for swearing. Plus, I'm not sure if 'ass' is really even swearing.

And now I’m home, drink in hand, hanging with the kids and waiting for Casey to get home from his last blessed day at the Home and Garden Show. I have learned that set backs aren’t the end of the world. Sometimes they can actually be a good thing. They can strengthen your resolve. They can stiffen your upper lip. They can give you an excuse to bitch your head off and eat Easy Cheez for a week. But they don’t have to be the end. That’s what they are called set backs and not game overs.

The week started off crap, but ended on a high note. Sort of like a Celine Dion song.

Yours in living through the death cold and not even getting a stupid t-shirt,



4 responses »

  1. The first run after a unwilling break are usually pretty great! That and the snot-rockets you probably were able to fire off were probably epic!

  2. I LOVE your blog! As a working mom, mother, runner and wine lover I can TOTALLY appreciate all of your experiences and exactly how you tell us about them! Good luck in a few weeks! Let’s lunch soon!


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