June started off well, but then went straight off a cliff. Running dissolved into the abyss. Workouts transmogrified into championship-caliber couch surfing.
Hopes of my fortune shifting upon the receipt of a pull-up bar as a birthday gift turned to ash when the contraption wouldn't fit in any of our antique doorways. Instead of spending the weekend on a pull-up and chin-up binge, there was an onslaught of heavy foods, dessert, beers and even a shot of Irish whisky as if this were the birthday celebrations of yore.
As a sharp contrast to my bacchanalian pursuits over the weekend, my old friend Martini was running his first 100-mile race, finishing in 30-some hours. If that doesn't make you feel like slug, I don't know what will.
Like the majority of this month, the weekend was devoid of exercise. Progress has regressed. Healthy behavior ist nicht. But like most of this year, I'm following a great month of running with a bad one. The cycle continues.
And so let's back it up a bit. As you all know, but clearly ignored, my birthday was Friday.
Thursday, Mrs. Viper and I took the day off work to visit the Cleveland Museum of Art, and then we got dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. It was nice to get to spend a whole day together without any other obligations.
Friday, I went to work and then wondered what the hell I was doing at work on my birthday, so I took the afternoon off and spent it trying (and failing) to get my car to pass E-Check. It's at the mechanic getting a new exhaust pipe, and there goes my birthday money. After a frustrating day, the wife and I enjoyed take-out burgers from Swenson's and decadent desserts from a specialty grocer, where I also got a growler of ReHive Ale to wash away the aggravation.
Saturday was a day of errands and chores while Mrs. Viper was at work. I went to the library, got my hair cut, picked up Father's Day gifts and wrapping paper, bought coffee beans and cleaned up around the house a little before we met my family for dinner at the bar of my youth. They had my old favorite Ommegang Rare Vos on tap, and I got to spin the wheel for a random shot as my free birthday drink. I got lucky with Jameson, rather than something like the Sweaty Mexican I got for my 21st birthday spin. My lovely wife played designated driver.
Sunday was time for the in-laws, where we finished up our poor eating weekend with fried chicken and pie. Mrs. Viper and I returned home to relax the evening away on the couch watching TV while I tried (and failed) to finish off the growler. We were both feeling the need to get back to exercising.
Today I'm researching DIY options for installing a pull-up bar in my basement. Any suggestions are welcome.
4 comments:
Happy fathers day brother. Next year it will take on a whole different meaning.
Your site is different!!! I can't figure out what is going on! What are these changes??!?!?!
Also, happy belated birthday and father's day! :)
If you and Mrs V are having a daughter, you might want to consider naming her Ninkasi.
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/06/18/us/for-its-latest-beer-a-craft-brewer-chooses-an-unlikely-pairing-archaeology.html
I bought a super fancy-ass pull-up contraption that, wouldn't you know it, didn't fit over the 1920s-era moldings on any of my doorways, either. I finally found one door it would fit on (my closet door) only to have it disengage and hit the ground while I was watching TV in my living room one floor below. I thought a bomb hand gone off. It became floor sculpture and I eventually ended up Freecycling it.
Did Martini do the Mohican 100 Mile? I was down there, too!
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