It's All About the Benjamins*

Saturday night Tessa and I went to a swanky wedding party in London for two friends of ours. One of them writes for a big tabloid here, so we were both optimistic that either Kate Moss or Martians would be there.

Instead, we found copious amounts of free wine.

The alcohol servers were proficient in what we like to call "Olive Garden" pours. This is where the wine clings to the rims of the glass, desperately waiting for something to break the surface tension so that it may spill over. Terms like "tenuous" and "meniscus" come into play. Needless to say, after drinking countless glasses, we both lost track of everything, missed our cab, had to find another cab, and stumbled to bed wearing socks on our ears and pancakes on our feet. And I had to run ten miles the next morning.

I didn't run. I stayed in bed until 2PM. I wanted to die. The whole shebang.

The real consequence, though, was that I had to push Sunday's run to Monday, which meant I had my first Monday-Friday running schedule since, possibly, forever. Five day running weeks are okay. Five-day-in-a-row weeks are a pain in the ass. After 10 miles on Monday, I had 4, then 3, then 6, then 3 again. After today's (Friday's) run, I actually did a little break dance to celebrate my ONE DAY OFF tomorrow. Which comes before another ten miles on Sunday. I believe this is what they call "the grind".

The reason I was so insistent on maintaining my mileage this week was pretty simple- If I didn't drop a run then November would become my first one-hundrend-mile month this year. And although three miles felt like thirty by the end of the week, I got there:



I checked my running log from last year, and I only hit the "centenary club" twice. I cracked ninety miles twice this spring, but just couldn't push myself over. I'm pretty pleased I squeezed it out.(I think Dr. P.P. might have joined me with an additional one hundred this month. (oder?))

There's not much else to report, other than this drunk runner is going dry for a little while. Saturday night put the smack down on me, and I need to detox before the annual "Christmas Family Drunkfest". Long story short: I'm into temperance for now, suffrage shall follow.

Here are the last five runs:



Overall Impression: So Glad to See Sixpack Healthy Again and So Glad to Rest Tomorrow (SGtSSHAaSGtRT)

(* I had to google the name "Benjamin" because I didn't think I knew how to spell it.)