Recap: The Good, the bad and the ugly

Wow, I've just been MIA for a few days now, haven't I? Well, as the title of this post suggests, the past several days have been full of some good stuff, some bad stuff and some all-around seriously ugly stuff.

Let's start with Thursday. I got to leave work at the very reasonable hour of 6:20 p.m., as I had to meet Wilson at MSG by 7:00 for the Rangers/Devils Game (if only I could leave work that early every night . . . sigh). The game was a lot of fun, and we got to consume hot dogs and beer--which always makes for a very happy Irish Cream. The Rangers even managed to pull off the victory, leading to the very childish (but very gratifying) chant of "You can't beat us!" as the last minute or so of play wound down.

Friday was a pretty busy day for me at work (this sick trend has been popping up all over the place as of late, and really should just go away). I left at the almost reasonable hour of 7:30 p.m., but was feeling ridiculously sluggish at the time. I also needed to stop by Target to pick up a gift for a baby shower that was taking place on Saturday. This led to . . . well, probably not what you're thinking. Nope. Instead of skipping my run and taking care of my shopping needs, I headed to the gym and changed into my running clothes. I then proceeded to get on the 'mill and run the first 2 of my 3.5 miles on a killer hill setting. Now you may be asking, "But Irish Cream, why did you do that if you were feeling so sluggish and tired? Don't you know hills make you MORE tired?" Yeah, who knows. In my defense, I did the entire run at a 9:40/mile pace . . . so I did kind of take it kind of easy pace-wise. But seriously, I just don't know what was up with the hill setting? I must have momentarily lost my mind or something. Maybe it's mad cow disease? Anyway, after my run, I decided to be even more of a nut and do a routine that will from here on out be known as "nuclear abs." Oy. It involved medicine balls and swiss balls . . . and it was just not very pretty, my friends. By the time I finished up, it was far too late to get make it to Target, so I simply took the subway home, praying all the while that I wouldn't resort to cannibalism and eat someone on the train (I was SERIOUSLY famished).

Saturday was an interesting day, to say the least. Wilson and I didn't get out of bed until LATE . . . I think it was after 11:00 a.m. (gasp!) We had been thinking about getting up early-ish and walking the 6 miles to Target and back (with the hope of avoiding the crowds and getting some nice cross-training in) . . . but sadly, this just didn't happen. We instead were forced to stop in on our way to the baby shower--at 3 p.m.--on a SATURDAY. Needless to say, IT WAS HELL (and yes--I did, in fact, drag my boyfriend to the baby shower--I know, I'm horrible). We made it in and out of Target without getting TOO violent, threw the gift together, and walked the mile or so to my friend Joni's place in Park Slope. We were there long enough to check out her new fab apartment (it is GORGEOUS), eat some delicious hors d'oeuvres and complain a lot about work (Joni's a co-worker). I, of course, gave my oh-so-helpful suggestions for what to name the baby ("Boomer"), then Wilson and I set off to find a fun place to eat dinner. We decided on the "Brooklyn Burger Bar" just down the street from Joni's. Wilson and I both had New Zealand lamb burgers, which were delicious . . . but the service was definitely a little lackluster (for some reason, there was just a ton of confusion over which orders were to be delivered to which table). Still, it was nice to actually get to have a dinner out. I know this sounds ridiculous, considering we live in NYC, but Wilson and I rarely eat out. We both like cooking, and we're also both cheap-asses. But I have to admit, it was seriously nice to not have to clean up after our meal! Instead, we set out on the beautiful walk back across Prospect Park--and thus, back into our own "'hood" (have I complained yet about how I live in the ghetto? No? 'Cuz I do).

Sunday, I woke up with the most ridiculous ab pain you could possibly imagine. It seriously felt like a bomb had gone off in my upper abdominal region (hello, nuclear abs!). I kind of thought I was going to die. It was BRUTAL. Wilson spontaneously decided to do some spring cleaning, and while I wasn't feeling so hot thanks to said ab situation, I decided that I wanted to play too! It was seriously tiring (and probably not the best thing to do right before a long run), but it felt really nice to be a little less cluttered! Eventually, though, it came time for our long runs. UGH. I have to admit; I was NOT looking forward to this week's long run. I guess my confidence has just been shaken a bit by my failures at long runs over the past two weeks (if you consider running the mileage called for by the Beginner's schedule a "failure"--which apparently I do).

Some weird things to note about yesterday's long run . . . 1) I spotted the first ice cream truck of the season, parked right outside of the park (despite the fact that it was only like 40 degrees out, the truck was definitely getting some business!); 2) the damn water fountains in the park STILL have yet to be turned back on--please, can this happen soon?; 3) some asshole tried to steal from me. As a result of the no water fountains issue, I'd brought a water bottle with an attached pocket thingy, which I generally put a gel or two into. Well, not wanting to carry the bottle with me, I tossed it down on the side of the road during my first loop--and when I came back around to it, the pocket was unzipped and my gel had been tossed aside, as though the person was rummaging through the pocket, looking for money. Ha, to tell you the truth, it kind of made me really happy to know that some idiot had to suffer the disappointment of discovering that I am not dumb, and do not leave valuable items in the little pocket attached to my water bottle, which I just carelessly toss to the side of the road every time I run. TAKE THAT! HA! Jerks.

Shockingly enough, though, I actually felt pretty darn good during the run. Wilson had 5 miles scheduled, and after we finished up with 5, I was seriously shocked to hear myself utter the words, "I'm going to run another 2 miles, since the Intermediate schedule calls for 7 this week." I took a second, kind of looked around, trying to figure out why I had just said that, and then figured I might as well go with it. Wilson took off in the direction of home and I ran a small loop to finish up my full 7. While doing so, I ran into my old buddy, Robert, on his bike (I swear to goodness, this man knows EVERYONE in the park--it's incredible) . . . and he rode with me, while I shared with him the story of my rocky first marathon. He had only kind words for me--per usual--and he threw in his usual dose of peer pressure, trying to talk me into getting myself a bike. Ha. (Because apparently it's a really good idea for people who have trouble not falling down when WALKING to ride bikes at high speeds. Riiiiight!)

I finished up my run in 1:10:35 (10:05/mile pace--aka SLOOOOW), and on my walk home from the park suddenly realized that my lungs felt like ABSOLUTE crap. It was seriously gross. It was like there was all this gross fluid down in there or something. I kept trying to cough it up, but apparently it's really difficult to cough when you are suffering from post-nuclear-abs-stress-disorder. And was I ever. I managed to make it the four blocks back to my apartment from the park without dying, and immediately thereafter threw myself on the couch and pulled a big, fluffy blanket over me (oh wait, could I possibly have forgotten to complain about the fact that my apartment in the ghetto has no heat? Yeah, true story). I was just sitting there, coughing like a crazy person, trying to get the crap out of my lungs--but it just wasn't working. I thought I was going to choke to death! As I was FREEZING cold (and still in my wet running clothes), I finally mustered up enough strength to shower up, change into some comfy sweats, and (of course) plant myself back on the couch.

Sadly, Wilson had other plans for me. He decided that we needed to go to the grocery store. So we went. And I complained the ENTIRE time, because I honestly don't think I have ever felt as defeated and exhausted as I did right there in that grocery store. I was exhausted to the point where I wasn't sure whether I could keep breathing--because it was just "too much work." Bizarro. I kept slumping over and leaning on the cart, seriously feeling like I was going to collapse. I even contemplated just sitting down on the floor for a while. It was awful. We finally ended our lovely outing when poor Wilson tried to ask me something about ice cream flavors and I just screamed, "I don't care! Can we please just go?!" Yeah. It wasn't pretty. I made it home, and planted myself on the couch for the rest of the night, with absolutely no intention whatsoever of moving ever again.

Today, I'm feeling ever so slightly better, but my lungs still feel like complete crap. I'm praying this goes away soon, but I'm thinking that coughing crap up probably isn't the best sign ever. Boo. Well, at any rate, it's a rest day for this chick, as I'm heading back to MSG for ANOTHER Ranger's game (and more hot dogs and beer--yum) tonight! Until next time . . .