Self-inflicted detox week is over. We're scheduling excursions to account for lost time. We would not want to be audited!
The Cleveland half marathon was Sunday, and I finished with a powerful thirst. My race time was a couple minutes shy of my goal, and the block party after the race was about 40 minutes too late in starting. I was not about to stick around for a Michelob Ultra that I spied being offloaded from the truck behind the "Beer Garden" tent. Instead I headed home in hopes of better flavors.
The bums I call my friends, the bums who call themselves boozehounds were in limited supply Sunday afternoon. Upon finishing the race (unofficial time: 1:56:42), I sent a blast text message, "Who's thirsty?" No replies came until almost two hours later. Excuses of having to stay sober for later engagements (dinner parties, work) were a bit disappointing. It seemed everyone I know was too busy to celebrate with me. (Sniffle)
Around noon, though, finally an offer came in. Brunch. Perfect. I needed to eat, and I could put down a nice layer of beer before the meal was served for an afternoon delight. This made for perhaps my favorite run to the store: A six pack of Goose Island IPA and a pound of bacon.
Unfortunately, my day ended early. I could not sustain my energy past 10 p.m. I am not built to wake up at 4:15 in the morning. Tonight will be a different story.
As for the running, now it's on to the Akron marathon in September. A bigger race should result in a bigger thirst.