Normally, I’d not permit myself five cocktails and a 1:15 AM bedtime the night before a 10-miler, but for Mike, I’m happy to make an exception: friendship handily trumped training. When I finally tucked myself into bed (feet achy from shimmying around in gold brocade pumps all night), I had enough sense to set my alarm for 8 AM (instead of Saturday’s usual 6 AM).
When I awoke less than seven hours later, I knew right away I was hung over. Ten miles with a headache, TK. Get on that, I thought. After two Tylenol, three glasses of water, and no breakfast, I was on the road soon after 9 AM, my little green G all fired up and ready to keep tabs. One block into it, I was panting-oh yeah, hung over. Eh, I shrugged, just bang it out. As I motored over the Queensborough Bridge and up the East Side Rec Path, music kept my feet moving despite overwhelming thirst. Nevertheless, I was truly tickled to be out there, and it showed: I waved at puppies, airplaned my way around corners, and grinned at anyone who’d make eye contact. I hit the 102nd Street turnaround in 47:53, with little G telling me I’d run 5.05 miles (so: I’d accurately measured this route). A light rain started at mile 7; I asked a faster, older woman to pace me to the end of the rec path (she was fit, yo); and ended up turning my rote 10-miler into a progression workout, finishing at an 8 minute pace for the last mile (the way back took me 44:51, for a total of 1:32:45 over 10.1 miles).
Now, ten hours later, I am so weary from burning the candle at both ends (I spent my afternoon visiting with first Nana, then Mom) that I think I will have my pasta and be in bed by nine o’clock.
Favorite songs from today’s playlist: “A Life of Illusion” by Joe Walsh, “The Bucket” by Kings of Leon, “Communication Breakdown” by Led Zeppelin, “I Gotta Get Drunk” by the Little Willies, “Into Your Drug” by Matthew Sweet, and “Big Butt” by Nothing
Pigtails Flying 
I was in bed with lights out at 9:15 last night. My 14-miler at an 8:27 pace caught up with me as did the three beers and Mexican food for dinner. I managed a half-hour of reading before I realized the book had fallen open onto my leg and I was drifting off with the light on and my cat curled up in my armpit. There’s nothing wrong with going to bed at a time befitting a 10-year-old sometimes! We work (and play) hard– we deserve our rest. 🙂
Oh I have no problem going to bed early. I have a problem with being tired. I fucking hate it.