Monday, May 21, 2007

Thirteen Weeks Later

An update, if you will…

Shiny Happy People on the Path
Training? What training? All I said was that I going to get up – a one time deal – at 5:30am and run four miles on the lakefront path. No biggie. Don't get all up in my business looking for a commitment because… you know… that’s not my style.

Ah… come on. I'm all talk. You know I can’t say no to you.

Saturday’s four-miler was the kind of run you dream about, that is if you dream running, which I for one, do not.

Suffice to say, it was incredible. The weather was amazing. The lakefront path wasn’t a death trap of a few thousand runners, bikers, rollerbladers, dog walkers, and stroller pushers - a trampling waiting to happen no doubt (Note to self: steer clear of those who fancy themselves elite athletes... nothing gets between them and their marathon time... not you, not me, and certainly not some helpless halfwit who can't run a sub-eight minute mile).

But no, not Saturday. It was calm. It was beautiful. It was perfect.

It was… the kind of run you dream about… if one were to - God forbid - start dreaming about running.

The Deets
I decided I would give the 11:30 pace group another shot. Despite the 5:30am wake up call, the actual run part was amazing. For the first time ever, I held conversations with my fellow runners for nearly the entire distance, which means I wasn’t getting winded, and moreover, I was likely running with an appropriate pace group for my fitness level. I finished the run feeling as though I could have easily – perhaps happily? – gone another two miles or so. It got me super pumped up about training.

Sunday, August 12, 2007
Chicago Distance Classic... Calendar, consider yourself marked.

Bubble Burst
Wanting to share my joy with the world after Saturday’s run, I called my mom at 8am (9am her time) while I waited for the #11 bus. After imparting the good word onto my mother… she asked me this:

Mom: What are you going to do now?
Lou: Well, I’m going to go home, eat something, maybe run some errands; hopefully, I’ll take a nap.
Mom: You should take a nap. You’ll look better.
[Pause… mild confusion as my mother’s comment sinks in.]
Lou: What?!?! Geez Mom! Really? You can’t even see me. Why do you assume that I look bad? Thank you. Thank you for assuming I look like hell. You know what? That makes me feel good about me.
Mom: Get over yourself Lou.

Tough love. Somebody’s gotta do it.

Famous Again... Almost
I love when I make it into a virtual stranger's blog. It feeds my ever-expanding ego. Unfortunately, my cameo in this post is not quite as extensive as it was in Katzy's charming tale about my rage issues. Regardless, one of the women in my pace group is being sponsored by Pockets, a pita place, to train for the Chicago Marathon and reach her weight loss goals, which I think is pretty awesome. She’s documenting her journey at 50 Down and Marathon Bound.

If you read her post from Sunday, May 20 (Run #40), I am one of the “two chics” talking about the evils of Chipotle during Saturday's group run. True story. You know… cause that’s what I do…

At Your Own Risk
Oh Chipotle... you think you're so clever... with your fresh ingrediants and seemingly healthy fare... well played, my friend. Well. Played.

Like I said, at your own risk:
http://www.chipotlefan.com/index.php?id=nutrition_calculator

My burrito's stats (rice, black beans, guacamole, corn salsa, sour cream, cheese, and lettuce):

Calories: 1205
Fat: 52g
Carbs: 149g
Fiber: 17.5g
Protein: 36g

Chipotle... allow me to introduce you to a little something I like to call "the List." Chipotle... List. List... Chipotle. And well, while we're here... Trader Joe's roasted red pepper spread... we might as well get this over with...

Update: Two jars of roasted red pepper spread gone in three days... that is what I like to call... bad news bears.

Talk about ever-expanding...

1 comment:

Laura said...

Two bottles of red pepper spread in 3 days? I think it's almost time for the spread to be introduced to the spread. Some where in your kitchen your Go Lean bars are crying and feeling unwanted.