Can we please talk about one show? The Real Housewives of New York City? Oh my god. Crack cocaine anyone? Ok, my favorite dialog from the last show. The big obnoxious strawberry blonde wife is talking about how she doesn't understand "Girls' Night Out." She says that whatever girls need to talk about she can talk about with her husband there.
She says: "Vibrators? So what? Just plug 'em in and go!" Cut to another wife who says: "Plug it in? What are we in, 1970?" Good vibrator times(TM).
Anyhoo, I digress. Sunday Jeffy and I ran the Esplanade, and I have to say, we killed it. I took inventory during the run of all my body parts, and they all came back with a unanimous thumbs up. And yet again I wonder why I skip the runs all the time.
I ran today in the hood and I totally have runner's knee in my right knee and a very stiff left hamstring. I used the foam roller and the stick, but we'll see. During my run I wondered how a person who runs once a week can have so many injuries.
Prideful moment of the day: my neighborhood run usually includes running a mile on the OES track (who, by the way, I now hate as they kicked my son and baby sitter off their wooden play gym during the day WHEN NO ONE WAS EVEN ON IT AND IT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE TO THE SCHOOL. Obviously I'm writing them a letter. Stupid Episcopaleous bastards. ) Anyway, sometimes I like to push it on the mile to see how fast I can really run a mile without dying, and today I'm happy to report that I logged an 8:15 minute mile. Elf inspired me. But I will never be as good as the Elf. I'm coming to terms with that.
And that's it from the West Side.
The cuteness hurts sometimes.
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