Showing posts with label over served. Show all posts
Showing posts with label over served. Show all posts
Thursday, August 13, 2009
One Drunkard, One Cup
Tomorrow is my company's summer picnic, and this year the boss is bringing beer. Glorious beer. However, I should probably limit myself to one drink so I can be in tip-top shape for Saturday's Summer Un-Solstice Challenge. Thankfully, I found just the right size cups to bring.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Drink, Recovery, Run, Drink, Recovery Run
Success! Last you heard, I was preparing my liver and legs for a series of powerful performances for the Flag Day weekend. I wanted to make sure I got my birthday drinks in, but I didn't want to miss any training runs.
Friday evening was a gathering of my cronies at the local, cheap Mexican eatery, Mariachi Coco's. I ordered myself a giant Dos Equis as everyone arrived. I ate a bean burrito and rice to lay down as good of a base as possible before the sponsored drinks started to arrive.
First was another giant Dos Equis. Then the restaurant staff filed behind me with a sombrero. One of them placed a shot of tequila before me as the group sang "Feliz Cumpleaños." Within minutes of downing the complimentary shot, the erratic epicurean bought me another. And then the Martini bought me a third.
Flashforward to more good times. The erratic epicurean invited the 12 or so of us to her place for an aftermath party. Martini got me again with a flask full of Bushmills, while I revisited the goodness of Great Lakes Glockenspiel. From there, it was only a hop, skip and a jump to Blackout Isle.
Saturday morning disappeared mostly before I awoke, killing my hopes of running that morning. Plans took me to Cleveland for an artsy parade and an afternoon baseball game. I took the hair of a dog that didn't bite me with a late lunch at the Winking Lizard downtown. After Albert Pujols single-handedly beat the Clevelanders, I was ready to run.
I got home at about half past eight, quickly changed into my running gear and headed out to Sand Run for five miles at eight to nine-minute miles. Darkness consumed the park and I felt like a drunkard as I misstepped my way along the crushed limestone path. I finished the run with an average pace of 8:36 per mile.
Sunday was the big day. Lots of plans -- both known and unknown -- filled my afternoon and evening. I had to get my long run done that morning with less than 12 hours of rest. I ran 10 miles in the Cleveland Metro Parks and absolutely killed it. I finished with a 9:02-per-mile pace, a two-minute negative split and a final mile of 7:50.
The rest of Sunday was filled with relaxing, barbecuing and surprise birthday partying, which was orchestrated by the polka-dotted queen of secrets herself. We partied into the late hours, and I was happy I had at the last minute decided to take a vacation day Monday.
I slept in yesterday and got some errands done before heading out for a three-mile recovery run.
After a weekend of serious drinking and strong running, today, my liver and my legs are taking a break. Cheers!
Friday evening was a gathering of my cronies at the local, cheap Mexican eatery, Mariachi Coco's. I ordered myself a giant Dos Equis as everyone arrived. I ate a bean burrito and rice to lay down as good of a base as possible before the sponsored drinks started to arrive.
First was another giant Dos Equis. Then the restaurant staff filed behind me with a sombrero. One of them placed a shot of tequila before me as the group sang "Feliz Cumpleaños." Within minutes of downing the complimentary shot, the erratic epicurean bought me another. And then the Martini bought me a third.
Flashforward to more good times. The erratic epicurean invited the 12 or so of us to her place for an aftermath party. Martini got me again with a flask full of Bushmills, while I revisited the goodness of Great Lakes Glockenspiel. From there, it was only a hop, skip and a jump to Blackout Isle.
Saturday morning disappeared mostly before I awoke, killing my hopes of running that morning. Plans took me to Cleveland for an artsy parade and an afternoon baseball game. I took the hair of a dog that didn't bite me with a late lunch at the Winking Lizard downtown. After Albert Pujols single-handedly beat the Clevelanders, I was ready to run.
I got home at about half past eight, quickly changed into my running gear and headed out to Sand Run for five miles at eight to nine-minute miles. Darkness consumed the park and I felt like a drunkard as I misstepped my way along the crushed limestone path. I finished the run with an average pace of 8:36 per mile.
Sunday was the big day. Lots of plans -- both known and unknown -- filled my afternoon and evening. I had to get my long run done that morning with less than 12 hours of rest. I ran 10 miles in the Cleveland Metro Parks and absolutely killed it. I finished with a 9:02-per-mile pace, a two-minute negative split and a final mile of 7:50.
The rest of Sunday was filled with relaxing, barbecuing and surprise birthday partying, which was orchestrated by the polka-dotted queen of secrets herself. We partied into the late hours, and I was happy I had at the last minute decided to take a vacation day Monday.
I slept in yesterday and got some errands done before heading out for a three-mile recovery run.
After a weekend of serious drinking and strong running, today, my liver and my legs are taking a break. Cheers!
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