Treadmill Travels

The last week and a half have been filled with those runs indicative of cold weather--the ones that travel miles and miles, while actually traveling nowhere at all. I've spent these days running exclusively on what I'd previously referred to as the "dreadmill," but now I see more in the light of a benevolent and understanding compadre, a partner in arms, a willing companion to the hijinx of my running effervescence.

Well, maybe not effervescence, exactly...I fully admit to having been a bit lackluster in my running efforts lately, as the seasonal hubbub wears on, and contract work, the care of Copley, and the kickoff of RunBoston have eroded the small amounts of free time I've typically carved out for running into a thin sliver of a nub--leaving me no option but to squeeze in runs in the early morning hours before work, something I've never been great at actually achieving, despite my pre-slumber plans.

This weekend, however, I not only managed to get a long run in, I enjoyed an entire day free of guilty feelings, and of work. I slept in, lazed over coffee and cheerios, and knocked out a comfortable 8.5 miles at the gym (thank you iPod, for allowing me to resist the temptation to throw myself over the small balcony onto the free weights below), topped off with a few planks and pushups for dessert. I shambled sweatily through a packed Whole Foods, lingered over pasta, cleaned the apartment, and played with Copley, all before even contemplating a shower to rid myself of the workout stink. When my beloved arrived home from an Adventure Club ski trip, I regaled him with the joy of my slow-paced day, one he agreed was much needed.

Today, on his birthday (32, you handsome stud!), we enjoyed all the perks of being cozily snowed in together. We shared a leisurely breakfast of Christmas bagels, fresh grapefruit, and lattés, cuddled on the couch over a morning showing of Turner and Hooch, and meandered our way to the liquor store in boots, to pick up the necessary ingredients for Tom & Jerry's. And though we spent several hours on our laptops to finish up the last of our weekend work, we'll be able to leave for North Dakota on Wednesday, with clear consciences and empty inboxes.

And with nearly two weeks of blogging checked off my list, I'm on to the next to-do--cuddling up with a book on the couch.

Got Rice?

Another week, a few more miles, and too much in the way of eventful things.

Tuesday my beloved and I hauled our sorry selves to the gym, where we logged a couple easy miles on some brand-spankin' new treadmills at the CAC--one of many fabulous renovations/upgrades done recently. And I don't mean just new treadmills--I mean new treadmills that can calculate pace per mile, mile per hour, calories burned, and whip up a mean latté, all while also calculating the square root of pi and the fastest route to world peace.

There was a decided lack of miles for the entire rest of the week while both us ran back and forth from the vet's office (Jared even more so than I) with one very sick Great Dane. A stomach bug laid our normally rambunctious Copley low for a few days, and was followed immediately by the return of what we'd thought was a cured UTI. By Saturday, though, after two days of eating nothing but Pepcid AC, rice, and chicken, she was back to her vivacious self. After another trip to the vet, some last Christmas shopping, and several hours of RunBoston-related tasks, we were too zonked to even considering heading into the icy rain for any miles, let along long ones.

By Sunday, we were rested up and ready to rock. And rock we did, with 5.3 miles back to the CAC for a quick lift, then another almost 4 miles home. The icing of the cake was, as always, a hot steaming dark roast for me, and a latté for my better half.

Now for cookies and Tom & Jerry's...