At approximately 1.15 AM, I woke up with a brain-cleaving headache. When I get out of bed — especially when I do it too quickly — I tend to walk like a drunkard. It’s not unheard of for me to smack into a doorframe that hasn’t budged an inch in all the years I’ve been living here. So there I was, making my drunk-like way down the hallway to go downstairs and get some ibuprofen, when I encountered my mom, who wanted to know where I was going. Uh… for a walk??
Her advice is to keep ibuprofen by my bed. I prefer to think that I won’t be awakened by such headaches on a regular basis, thank you very much.
Anyway, the headache was mostly gone when I woke up again a few hours later. Or I might not have bothered to get out of bed at all. But I did get out of bed, and then I had to make breakfast.
Oh, right. There is some bread in my freezer that I need to finish. Why not make French toast, then?
I dipped the bread in a simple egg white + cinnamon mixture, but by the time I got to the last slice, there was hardly any left, so that was essentially just a piece of bread toasted on a skillet. Which, by the way, happens to taste a lot better than toast made in a toaster. Just saying.
On my way to the gym, I decided that I am setting a new goal: to complete a race at a sub-9:00mm pace. If I can find a race on a flat course, that doesn’t seem too outrageous. But first I ought to try and see if I can even manage one mile.
Little Miss Genius, yet again, managed to re-set the treadmill after .35 mile. So I had to start all over again. The mind games were out in full force… but I can kind of laugh in the face of a brain / body that whines I want to walk, I can’t run that much … uh, yes, you can. You’ve run longer than a mile before, so be quiet and stop complaining. And I was right. I guess now I need to try for two miles.
Want to hear something really funny, though?! You may recall how I was scouring the earth for a running partner, to no avail. Well. I received this Facebook message from a friend today.
Are you serious?! … Actually, this is the same friend who was supposedly going to come skiing with me, so I’m not really counting on anything coming of this. I just had to laugh, is all.
More clearing-out-the-freezers action, combined with the last of my dying arugula:
Arugula, Steamfresh baby broccoli blend (broccoli, carrots, water chestnuts, edamame), and a sauce made with garlic hummus, Frank’s, and water to thin. Sometimes I kinda like this whole freezer-clearing project…
Speaking of projects, it’s silly to get into it right now, but I am going to have to institute Operation Eat Two Muffins a Day. If that sounds insane, well, it’s fitting, since I am insane, too. This may or may not be explained more clearly in a couple of days.
And I know why I’m so pissed off about the snafu with the race medals… when I crossed the finish line, before I knew whether I’d placed, I was happy with my time. Had it just been left at that, I still would have been happy with it. But the universe doesn’t seem to like that, so I had to receive something that wasn’t really mine, just so that it could be taken away. Which sucks.
Question: the medal wasn’t literally taken away. All medal recipients were “invited to hold on to their well-earned accolades” (uh, yeah, sure, whatever), but let’s say — theoretically — I become a racing addict and decide I don’t want to shove the medals in a drawer, but I want to display them. Do I display that one, too?? Because it isn’t really… true.
I’m going to shut up about this now. Really.
Happy Hump Day.
“It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.”