My favorite poem by Dorothy Parker:
I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three I’m under the table,
After four I’m under my host.
I dedicate tonight’s martini to you, Dorothy.
We had a blast. Chef Nicole took over my kitchen and taught me some awesome things! The wine was fabulous, the food was fabulous and the company spectacular.
[miniflickr user=”19202613@N00″ tags=”winter,solstice”]
This weekend the Martini Twins did a mock tri. We’ve never done anything like this before and we had no clue what to expect. We survived and finished in 2:10 and that included our 30 minute swim. And that is when I decided that air is my best friend. Air is good. Air never fails me. And since there is no air under water, the concept of swimming is ridiculous. The exercise called sipping margaritas and floating aimlessly is the only appropriate water exercise.
Saturday we rode 20 miles and ran some and then on Sunday we swam 30 minutes, rode 13 miles and ran 3.2 miles and hung out with the neighborhood rooster for a while – it took us 2 hours and ten minutes. And if it wasn’t for the swimming, I might have some energy left today. Give me a half marathon any day, I say.
Anyhow, fun times, fun recovery and just plain fun hanging with friends!
Here’s some video and you’ll notice how far ahead we are of the pelopton, we’re fast like that. And training, recovery and party pictures for you to enjoy. I’ll post a protected update that does not include us dancing on the tables soon. Seriously, does not have any dancing pictures.
Anyhow, fun times, fun recovery and just plain fun hanging with friends! Pics and video to enjoy.
Friday night was date night and to feel extra special I decided to wear my Donald J. Pliner Retro 70s Date Night Shoes, my new favorite pair of wedges that work perfect with my long, dark jeans! You may not like them, but damn, they do look mighty fine on my feet. I used them in my April Masthead and I heart them like I heart date night, and they heart me back.
Anyhow, for date night, we ate at a local Bistro owned by a friend of ours . . . and that friend of ours made us the best Italian Margaritas. I’m not sure if they were the best because they were the first Italian Margaritas I’ve ever had or if they were the best because she made them extra big, strong and tasty just for us. Either way, they were delicious and they made for a fabulous meal, a fabulous date night, and fabulously groggy morning after.
And why am I telling you this? Because the next morning as I was groggily doing my normal Saturday morning pool-boy duties, I saw a brown blob of something laying about in the far end of the yard and I immediately started to panic because I remembered doing something I rarely do . . . I tossed my shoes on the floor in a passionate flurry as opposed to putting them neatly back in their proper position on the closet shelf as a normal person does in a passionate flurry.
The echo of my scream . . . “NOOOOOOO, THOSE WERE MADE. IN THE MOUNTAINS. OF ITALLYYYY” . . . is still ringing in my neighborhood.
Apparently, Miss Cherry Couture is feeling better from her patella surgery. She’s a thief, that stinking evil genius, and she is way too smart for her own good. Since there doesn’t seem to be any damage, other than a few bite marks, she isn’t requiring any additional surgery to remove my foot from her ass. All of you with puppies are warned: NO SEX FOR YOU! Because it is totally not worth the potential damage.
I don’t know people, I’m just not feeling the love in this new template. How are those swirlys treating you? Do your eyes hurt? I’m all about the minimum and the white space, but I wanted to try something different. I’ll work this more later.
I also need to start working on getting my legs out the door and on the road. It’s either been cold and rainy or cold and foggy all week. I’ll do cold, but I don’t do foggy or rainy very well. I forget how much I have on my schedule for my long run tomorrow, but I’m sure it’s a lot. Tomorrow we’ll reach 52 degrees with a little sun. I like that forecast and it gives me no excuse to sit on my butt. Which is exactly what I’ve done all day today. Mostly because of the dinner party we went to last night, where they served five bottles of wine between six of us. FIVE. I’ve cut back on the adult beverages so much that I’m not good for any more than 2 glasses of wine these days. I’m a whimp.
Here’s a little love you can feel – pictures of Sister Runner Amy and I at the White Rock half.