First all, can I just say that I LOVE the new Allstate Mahem GPS commercial?
Now every time I see someone trip and fall or screw up something, I want to shout out RECALCULATING!!
Yesterday Sweet Baboo discovered that the diet mountain dew I've been drinking with diet cranberry all week is not diet mt dew, it is regular mountain dew. I did not mean for this to happen.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I immediately went into a tailspin of worry and desperately trying to calculate how many calories I'd drank unwittingly.
*Relax,* my calm self said. *You're carb loading, remember?"*
Yeah, well, I only get to use that excuse for so long, I thought, worriedly.
And then I ate two pieces of fried fish with tartar sauce, and two servings of potatoes, because I'm complex. Oh, and popcorn.
Thursday and Friday, I'll wear flats ONLY to get my Achilles nice and stretched out (okay, some heel cups in my Keens) and eat a LOT of carbs. I have not felt my Achilles all week long. Tomorrow night, I'll do a quick, short, flat gentle jog. 2 miles, tops.
Worry, worry, worry, worry. I've been swamped at work, which is good, because it's taken my mind off worrying about Ghost Town this weekend. This is, apparently, our busy time of year - our being the psychiatric hospital where I work. What's up with that? Are kids all blowing out over the holidays?
When I worry, I get scattered and disorganized, and Himself pointed out in his usual gentle, patient way that I was--oh, how did he put it--kind of spread out all over the place. For those of you who do not speak the language of the subtle man, this is genteel for, your shit is all over the house. Because I happen to speak genteel, I picked it up. Well, most of it anyway. Okay. Maybe half.
I go back to school next week, three classes a week.
In my continuous quest to buy shoes I couldn't wear when I was a teacher, I bought new shoes this week. They are cheap, fun ones with impossibly high heels.
I also bought these rainboots:
Seriously, how could I not? Even though I live in the desert, I mean, sometimes it rains.
Today, I was pulled for a random urinalysis at work. Again. I blew 90 minutes going across town, peeing in a cup, and then returning to work. What. The. Hell. They used to use a lab across the street from work, but then changed it to one that was less expensive. I hope that they save enough to make up for not having an employee working for 90 minutes, instead of the 20 it used to take to go across the street, pee in a cup and come back. And on the way there, needing to go, but not able to go, I hit ever damned pothole and speed bump.
Oh, also, when I'm nervous, I talk or write a lot, and use lots of commas.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that i'm nervous. It's been a long time that I've been nervous about finishing an event less than 50 miles. But for the past month, I've been doing short, short runs because of achilles stuff. I have this fear now that in the past month, I've completely lost all my base, and won't be able to be on my feet longer than 20 miles. And/Or I'll be in immense amounts of pain.
I need something chocolate.
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