spacekadet blog

There must be some kind of delayed insulin spike that occurs 48 hours after an ambitious night out at the pub.

Last Friday was my first happy hour with my new work mates. It didn’t compare to the legendary pub outings of my London career, but it made a damn good effort. I introduced everyone to Fireman’s #4, and felt warm in my heart when my colleagues reordered about 4 pitchers of the stuff. It really is the best beer ever, hands down. I ran into some old old math friends, friends from way back before things at UT went mostly potty. I ended up spending the rest of the night with them at Arturo’s sitting outside eating quesadillas and drinking red wine on the house. It was … really nice.

Needless to say, I woke up early Saturday morning feeling a bit rough around the edges and, in typical panicked form, txt’d Rachel, “fancy a run?” For a day spent hungover, it turned out to be a pretty bitchin’ Saturday. We had a nice easy run, followed by a smoothy. We hung around my place reading cookbooks and drinking coffee, took a bike ride around the neighborhood, I shot some pictures of this cool-ass spray-painted cactus just up the road, we went to Escapist Bookstore for their liquidation sale where I scored some cool stuff for el cheapo, and then Rachel let me do laundry at her house. But it doesn’t end there: we made a delicious broccoli tofu stir fry with peanut sauce, a recipe straight out of Molly Katzen’s “The Enchanted Broccoli Forest” Cookbook (a very significant estate sale score, along with her “Moosewood Cookbook”). The weather was great so we took lunch outside. We tinkered on our laptops for a while before watching the superb romantic comedy, Love Actually. When I got home, it was time for a snack, a little reading, and sweet sweet sleep time. I rock the hangover.

But back to that insulin spike I was talking about. Today I feel absolutely smashing. It’s been on the verge of raining all day. I finally decided it wasn’t going to happen, so I hit the trail and did a 60 minute run. Of course, the downpour started mid-way into it, but when I think of the runs I did through the icy rain of London’s winter, this drenching didn’t seem bad at all. It’s such a cool sensation to feel fast. The actual speed of my pace is insignificant; it’s the feeling of bounding energy that makes me glad I started running. It’s difficult to achieve that same feeling through any other sport. With running, you’re just “on” consistently for a prolonged period of time. The result is a sustained physical and mental awareness of the self. Maybe that’s what I like about working out - it puts me in my place. (I am suddenly reminded how much I miss working out with weights!)

Well, it’s Mother’s Day. Happy Mama’s Day! My mom got a bottle of bubbly and a mix CD. Here’s a little playlist I like to call “Yer Mom’s Mix CD”:

Related posts:

1. artist of the week: Bic Runga
2. Deja Vu All Over Again
3. “No more wank from this place.”
4. Vienna Teng’s Blog
5. Wed / Thurs Rockstar Runs