After being bone tired yesterday, like barely able to walk home tired, I accomplished my two main goals for last night and this morning: 1) sit on couch and enjoy my ongoing Gilmore Girls reunion; and 2) go to bed early and sleep the fuck in. I’m happy to report I stayed awake for two full episodes with the Lorelais, not to mention that one of these was probably my favorite episode, and then I went to bed and slept like a rock until 7 o’clock this morning (minus waking up once to sneeze). In case you’re dying to know, the Gilmore Girls episode that is at the top of my best-of list, is season four, episode 20, the one where Luke adorably buys self-help material to address his relationship hang-ups, post divorce from the very forgettable Nicole, and then finally asks Lorelai out. (Don’t be nervous, my fandom does not include a mental catalog of all episodes. I looked it up via everyone’s favorite knowledge machine, the internet.) We know Luke is in the middle of a renaissance, Lorelai doesn’t. We know he has just officially asked her out out, she doesn’t. It’s like Christmas, really. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, jump on Netflix now and binge watch until you catch up. You will not regret it. It’s an intelligent, watchable show, and I can vouch for its staying power. It’s been just as good the second time around as it was the first. File it under “recovery time” and you’re good to go.
I’ve been sitting here all morning watching storms roll in, celebrating the fact that after days of being threatened with iffy weather it finally hit today, my planned day off. I probably shouldn’t send this joy out into the ether. Now I’ve cursed myself and it’ll snow tomorrow. Don’t get me wrong, I love running in the summer rain, but I’m not a storm chaser. This East Coast girl does not do Midwest inclement weather. You want to see me shaking in my boots, announce a tornado warning. Once upon a time we were under a legitimate tornado warning at work, as in a mandatory take cover in my assigned location kind of warning, I was huddled in the bathroom with my co-workers, and someone, a native, said “Hey, let’s open the door so we can see it go by!” Thanks, but no thanks.
As much as I love training, I do love my day off. It’s a necessary pause to breathe, scan for any aches/pains, assess my tiredness, indulge in fun things, namely happy hour and chocolate. I specifically like taking Fridays off because it’s my “you made it” day. You made it to the end of the week and you successfully got up every morning to run, so now enjoy a day of laziness and denim. Turning on the light to pick out my attire today was optional, as was any grooming beyond, say, brushing my teeth and pulling my hair back. Okay, there was some deodorant too. Now I’m just sitting here, biding my time until I can go sit on my front porch with a glass of wine, or maybe a margarita if I’m feeling spunky.
I’ve got an easy run planned tomorrow, and then a longer interval workout to tackle on Sunday, sandwiched between all the usual stuff like grocery shopping, meal planning, and, of course, Gilmore Girls. I miss them right now. Don’t judge me.
Keep on kickin’,