It's hard to find time to run during the week, but it always seems even harder on the weekend. Which might confirm what I have always suspected: The earth spins faster on Friday evening, all day Saturday, and all day Sunday; therefore, the days and nights are compressed, and we don't get the same amount of time as we do during the week. It's the only explanation as to why week days take so long and weekends go so fast. And it is also why I am sometimes gyped of my running time -- it's not my fault; it's the rotation of the Earth.
Yesterday in particular went by quickly. We went to the Renassiance Festival, and we saw jousting, ate some big pickles (which I think may be to blame for the strange poop I had this morning), drank some beer, observed many strange folks dressed up as elves, fairies, wenches, kings, queens, and a few animals with tails. I participated in axe throwing, a medevial skeeball, was fitted for horns, and fell for the dollar-tied-to-a-string bit (and I was so excited to see that dollar laying there too!); also, I baked in the sun. By mid-afternoon, I was nothing but a sweating, dirty mess and I could tell that my exposed skin was frying in the Florida heat. We were all pretty tired by mid-afternoon, so we left the games, beer, and fried food to the elves and made our way home.
I was so exhausted after a day in 1521 that I fell asleep while watching TV at 7:30 and slept through the night. Every once in a while, a girl needs to sleep approximately 12 hours to re-energize; it's particularly helpful to do this after a tiring day at the Renassiance. Today, I was rested and managed to get three miles in with no problem, and I was relieved to see the day's food and drink yesterday didn't add any pounds to my waistline; I must have sweated it all off.
1 comment:
there could be something magic in those pickles, too. i might just have to start pickle-loading the day before a big run.
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