Pour Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard
THE GREAT CONFESSIONS:
1. On the way to Bolinas, the winding, curving, bending, sickening road made me feel terrible. Nonetheless, I suited up sausage style to hit the street. One of the weekend housemates had already gone for a spin and told me a nice route. Upon reaching one mile, I realized I had not quite recovered from the drive, so I turned and headed back toward town. I knew the sun was thinking about retiring, and with every passing step, I was thinking about joining it. I made it to the beach right around sunset, which was pretty, but by that point I felt so deeply odd, like an unpleasant kind of head floating or levitating in a queasy way, that the scenery was not really given its due. I went home at three miles, took a shower and slept for eleven hours. I then proceeded to take three days off from running. So there.
2. After my big Three Minutes Past the Longest I Had Ever Run triumph yesterday, I put my route into MapMyRun.com and discovered I was so labored by the end, that even though I lasted longer than before, I was actually a smidge under 10 miles AGAIN. And so the elusive little line in the sand remains. But I'll get you, my pretty. This Saturday, the 27th, I will have my way with you, ten miles, and while it won't be stylish, it will be done.
3. I continue to find myself fantasizing about a shopping spree in The Adidas Store featuring not just the Jeremy Scott high tops that make me want to cry, but also including many functional performance pieces that actually make me psyched to be running. Is it weird to think an article of clothing would make a girl excited to go out and run for a few hours? Well, even so: whoop, there it is.
4. I'm starving all the time. It makes sense to me that I might want to start watching what I eat because I am a thick woman, and carrying around all of me is probably rougher on the frame than it needs to be. I have lost maybe a pound or two since I started this. Maybe. My goals were never about losing weight but about feeling better. And I do feel better. I feel great mostly. And maybe that's because whenever I feel like I want to eat some kind of artesian pastry, I just do. I think Fuck it, if I'm gonna be hauling alla this around town for miles upon miles, I'm gonna go ahead and have me a damn pastry. And I do. One of my favorites is this dark chocolate sandwich cookie with salted caramel in the middle. And so with this confession, I would also like to mention, just to keep myself on the up and up here, I'm giving up sugar on April Fool's Day. At least until the race. I've done it before. It's harder than giving up smoking which I've done MANY times. I'm not looking forward to it, but I have come to the place where I realize the fleeting nirvana of the universe of dessert will be there waiting for me if I need it. In the mean time, my hips, knees, and feet need me to agree to help them in any way I can. I think this lack of sugar will have me a little lighter in the loafers. Also, I really am a sugar junkie. Like once I have sugar, I spend the rest of the day wanting more. Always.
In other news: Happy Almost Health Care, America. Almost.