Lost

What a difference a couple of days make.  I have done serious penance for the binge (marble cake, chocolate ice cream and fried chicken) of earlier this week, and have nibbled daintily ever since on oatmeal, scrambled eggs, half sandwiches, Greek salads and yogurt.  Do I even need to tell you what a difference that makes in my walking?  I remember reading somewhere that when you overeat, all of your body’s energy goes into digesting the food; there’s very little left over for things like, well, like walking five miles. 

It occurred to me last night that I am coming to the end of the serious sweating that happens on my night walks, and as sick as I am of the heat, I will miss that.  I like sweating profusely, especially as I traverse the hills, and then when I come home and wash my face, there is almost no make-up left on it.  The trade-off will be that Banks will be with me during those cold mornings and evenings, and I will have my old energy back. 

This morning I met Brian for breakfast at Mi Madres.  Please refer back to an earlier blog on my sense of direction.  How many times have I walked there, not to mention driven there?  I got lost.  I still don’t know exactly how it happened.  At some point in the walk – I can take many different streets and end up with the same mileage – I am supposed to be on Red River, traveling north.  Okay, I probably got on Red River at about 15^th St.  I was rocking along, kind of lost in my thoughts, and got to what I assumed was 24^th St/Manor.  Crap.  I was only at 19^th St.  And at this point I took a tragic turn, probably onto 19^th rather than proceeding straight on Red River, and about 10 minutes into it, I was like, Huh?  What am I doing on Trinity?  Where did all of these ROTC students come from?  I was on campus, and completely turned around.  Some helpful joggers directed me out of my fog and onto 24^th St., but by then I had lost some serious time.  I called Brian, who was fortunately also running late.  I thought about making up an excuse – there are times when the humor that others find in my perpetual lostness is less charming than others – but by the time I finally got there, 15 minutes late, I found the whole thing pretty funny myself.  So, needless to say, did Brian.  And this time, she didn't have to drop me off somewhere along Oltorf to make up the .4 miles; I probably walked well over 5 1/2 this morning.

One week out from the marathon.  I am getting very excited.