Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. Did you know that the average person consumes the same amount of calories on Thanksgiving day that the average marathoner burns on race day?
Following my first strength training session in about a hundred years, Tuesday night brought my usual running date with Mary Ann - 5 along the marathon course. My poor legs were pretty sore from strength, but it felt good to stretch them out a bit, and of course the conversation and camaraderie was welcome. Wednesday once I was finally able to shut down my work computer, I unfortunately had to turn my attention to packing, laundry and pie making, instead of the spin workout I had planned. But it's the thought that counts, right?
Thanksgiving morning dawned bright and early when the alarm went off at 6 for the Gobble, Gobble, Gobble and dear reader, my heart just wasn't in it. I needed a little more shut-eye and to be quite honest, wanted more than 4 miles that day. I ended up doing a little more than 6 at a later hour; 4 around the river, plus about a mile each way to/from the river from Noah's place in Charlestown. I felt quite satisfied when I finished, although secretly I was wishing for a pint of beer and my friends at The Burren, rather than a quick shower and a car ride to Weymouth.
I stuffed myself silly at my parents' house, including the two pies I had baked the night before, then Noah and I hopped in the car and headed up to his parents' house in Chestnut Ridge, NY, for Thanksgiving #2 on Friday- but not before doing hill repeats that morning - YUCK!
Then, because there's no rest for the wicked, and also because we ate more than 2 people should in a 24 hour time period, we faithfully got our long run in on Saturday. After haggling over the total mileage, we settled in on somewhere between 8 and 9. I grumbled and complained about doing fewer than 10, but in the end was glad to stop when we did - the course he had plotted out to take us through some fancy neighborhoods and scenic areas ended up being VERY hilly and challenging. Plus, it was crazy windy that day and we seemed to be running into a headwind no matter what direction we went. If memory serves me, about a half a mile from the finish I declared at the top of my lungs that I hated him, then proceeded to explain for the remainder of the run just how much I hated hills, especially the day after doing hill work. Is there no justice? There certainly wasn't for poor Noah.
The rest of the day, thankfully, was lazy - a hot shower, homemade turkey soup, sitting by the wood stove reading in side-by-side armchairs (the picture of domestic bliss, as Noah's dad called it), a fiercely competitive game of Jenga, then dinner at a sports pub with some friends. We got back in the car late that night to beat the torturous Sunday-after-Thanksgiving traffic, finally hit Boston around 1:30 am and today was workout-less.
Tomorrow I'll try to make Vic's strength class again, kick off what I'm considering the official beginning of my training for Boston and take back my fitness. After all, Noah threw down the gauntlet today to try and lose 4 pounds by Christmas - and I'll be damned if I don't match it.
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