Jesus Christ. It's been four days since I last posted. I don't know where the time goes. I really don't.
It's T minus 17 days until we tie the knot. I've been busy ordering invites for our early October reception (nothing like a deadline to kick you in the pants), scheduling photographers for the August wedding and fall reception, and figuring out which Hawaiian beach we'll get married on, among other tasks.
The whole nuptials thang is kind of freaking me out. Growing up, I was never one of those girls who fantasized about getting married, about what my wedding colors would be (WTF?!), how many bridesmaids I would have, etc.
I was too busy running around the neighborhood like a street urchin, ambushing people on my bike, reading war novels and biographies my 9-year old mind couldn't quite comprehend, or throwing a football around with Greg, the kid next door.
And now I'm getting married. Or Maui'ed, as the website of the California hippie, cat-loving minister who will officiate, says. Funny how life turns out.
Running Update: I ran almost 8 miles at a tempo pace with my running group early on a sweltering Saturday. We started off at about a 9:20 clip, then I pushed it to 9:00 for the next four miles, then back to 9:15 for the last half.
On Monday, my 4-mile run turned into a 6-mile run when I literally ran into M., who is in my Saturday training group. We ran together for a bit. After we said our goodbyes, I realized my stomach wasn't feeling so great. I almost lost it on the way back. But I held on grimly to the end.
I almost stopped when my stomach really started to roil, but that was a mistake. My body thought, Oh, now I can do what I've been meaning to do for the last 3 miles. Bad idea. So I kept putting one foot in front of the other until a bathroom was in sight. Sorry if that's too much information.
We runners tend to be obsessed with how our bodies work, and especially, it seems, our gastrointestinal goings-on.
Yesterday, I was supposed to run 5 miles with C., another woman in my running group. I waited almost 30 minutes, then called it quits. She was nowhere to be seen. By then, it was 8 p.m., and I was starving (I'd forgotten to eat a quick bite to fuel up), thirsty, and a little frustrated. I called it a night, and walked home.
I found out later that she was stuck in traffic. Oh, well. This evening, I'm up for a brief intervals workout (4 miles, 3 X800), then a short but intense free weights session.