So, yeah, I got in my 17 miles for the week but I required today to complete them. Considering I didn’t start running until Wednesday last week, I’m still technically within the guidelines of the humiliation challenge.
Yeah, I know, that sounds weak even to me. In my defense, I've had deadlines to contend with and I also had to spend a good junk of my weekend giving a thorough cleaning to our pig-sty of a kitchen, even cleaning out the cabinets and chucking out anything that was nasty, useless or both. At one point I put the vacuum hose into a very remote and dark corner of the cabinet underneath the sink and something big was sucked up into the tube. I’m praying it wasn’t a mouse, but I wouldn’t doubt it.
Another factor in me not running both days this weekend was because Aunt Flo is just about to visit again. Right now I’m dealing with the other aunts – Crampy, Bloaty, Hungry, Sleepy and Bitchy. See, they’re like the dwarfs just worse since these gals are fecking useless and cause me severe pain.
And since I’ve already made all the guys who read this blog cringe, I might as well keep going. I’ve noticed a lot of the female RBFs complaining of Aunt Flo and who can blame them. There’s nothing worse for running than having sore boobage and a pelvic area that feels like it’s been kicked multiple times. Then said nether region decides to spew grossness at an alarming rate. We lady runners need our own blogospheric Red Tent of sorts. I have no idea what it should be called though. Suggestions are welcome.
All right, all right, enough of the period talk. Here are my running stats for last week:
Wednesday - 3.1 miles
Friday - 3.1 miles
Saturday - 4.5 miles
Tuesday - 6.4 miles
Total - 17.1 miles
That’s pretty much it for me. I’ve got a busy rest of the week ahead including my first official product review which I hope to post tomorrow or maybe Thursday. A fun non-work related bit of this week's busy-ness involves me trying out a new recipe which I hope to bring to an international Easter potluck this weekend. Since the little devil children who sell the original cookies don’t inhabit England, I’ve got to see if I can make the goodies myself. Hopefully they don’t turn out too bad. If all else fails, I’ll just bring my standard potluck dish.
All right, later gators!