But the thing is, my weekend was wonderful. I feel like Clay and I have overcomitted ourselves a lot lately and it was really, really nice to have a weekend with zero plans or obligations. (Plus, after the events that took place on Thursday afternoon, I felt like I wanted to keep to myself.) The only time we ventured out of the house (running aside) was to grocery shop and meet my mom for lunch.
My mom was in town on business and suggested we meat up for a late lunch, our choice of where we go. Several weeks ago, she raved about a burger joint in a neighboring city that had, by her definition, one of the best hamburgers she'd ever eaten. So Clay and I decided to show her the best burgers our city had to offer and took her to Bub's Burgers.
Bub's Indianapolis location was featured on an episode of the Food Network's Man Vs. Food, just sayin'.
My mom insisted she could put down at least one Big Ugly burger stating, "Well, you've seen me at a buffet."
Clay and I talked her out of it, citing the price of the burger and the risk of projectile vomiting as sufficient reasons to stick to a smaller sandwich.
I demolished my burger and drank an insane amount of Diet Coke (apparently Hungry for Change didn't scare me quite enough to kick the habit for good) because I ran 9 miles less than an hour prior to meeting my mom.
I don't know if I chose too hilly of a route or if I was still too sleepy to fully function, but Saturday morning's run HURT and I spent the better part of the afternoon limping and rubbing my sore butt muscles (in a sadly non-sexual way).
Most of my miles hovered in the 8:30 minute/mile pace, but I felt pretty depleted by mile 7. Not to mention, two different people stopped me and asked for directions which I found annoying because 1.) There were tons of other people walking that they could have asked and 2.) I absolutely hate having to pause my Garmin mid-run. I don't like taking breaks. It throws off my groove.
But I never want to come across as rude, so I stopped and did my best to help. I just hope they didn't mind my labored breathing and the frozen snot icicles hanging out of my nose.
I don't have any wild expectations for PRing in the upcoming Hoosier Half Marathon, but I really, really want to get through it without walking/puking/crapping my pants. I've never done a hilly race that was longer than 5 miles, so I have some pretty legitimate concerns. I don't care what time I get, I just want to finish strong.
Part of the reason why Clayton's and my weekend was so low-key is that he had a huge exam to study for on Sunday and he spent most of his free time with his newly cleared-out nose shoved in a book. All of the hard work paid off in the end because my baby scored a 98% on the test!
He's so smart. He gets that from me.
I had every intention of baking a cookies n' cream cake and even purchased all of the ingredients during our grocery store trip, but when it came right down to it, laying on the couch and watching South Park reruns sounded like a better idea.
I'll have to do that tonight ... if I'm not too tired. I'm normally pretty beat on Monday nights because my body appears to go through shock every time it has to go back to work after the weekend.
And then I get to turnaround and make ANOTHER cake this week for Valentine's Day (I'm trying my hand at homemade mocha icing!)
I wish I could say that having cake twice in one week is a rare occurrence in our house, but hey, there's no point in lying to you guys.
I watched the majority of the Grammy's last night, too. My sweet Kelly Clarkson won an award for Best Pop Vocal Album, but I think Rihanna won the entire night because that girl has amazing abs.
|One of the most epic photo bombs EVER.|