So, the husband came home on Friday, which means that I spent most of my weekend hibernating. I slept in, twice, and napped, twice. Refueling. I needed it. Good god, I needed it. The last two weeks have been filled with just too much emotional and physical and swine-flu related shit. My body needed to shut down and waited impatiently for him to get off the plane and then BOOM. I did manage to wake up long enough to drag his ass to see New Moon, at which, rather curiously, we were the youngest people in the entire theater. I lie. There was one group of three teens and the rest of the theater? Filled with geriatrics and loads of dudes. More dudes than shrieking eels teens? Did Taylor Lautner’s time in the gym really draw that much of a crowd? Meh. I’m still Team Edward, no matter what Jacob’s stomach looks like…I’ll take Edward’s starving-artist spray-on abs any day of the week.
I also managed to wake up long enough to make myself a pumpkin breakfast extravaganza, thank to Miss Heather, who planted the idea in my head and it totally didn’t matter that I may or may not have found myself at The Fresh Market in a pair of pink flannel checked doggie pj bottoms. Pumpkin pancakes were made. and smothered with pumpkin butter.
You add a little Tim Horton’s freshly brewed coffee and, well, I sit on my ass andÂ instantly gain back all the weight I lost while I was sick (side note: totally worth it) EMOTIONALLY EATING FTW!
And now, I’ve got pumpkin on the brain. No thanks, I assure you, to the pumpkin pie Bobby Flay Throwdown I watched last night and I’m going to out on a limb here to say that Michele Albano totally got robbed, because since I saw the episode, all I can think about is how I am going to get her Maple Pumpkin with Pecan Streusel Pies flown in from Connecticut to get in my belly.
And going into Thanksgiving week, with the race only 4 days away, I had to make a decision that I was not pleased to have had to make…I am not running the half-marathon this week. Up until yesterday, I was still going to do it. I had to do it, even though the training I was supposed to do in the last 6 weeks had gone to hell…as in, is had not happened. AT ALL. Since shredding my ankles several times and getting sick and then getting sick again and not being able to eat for an entire week and then Josh being sick and home all week and Isabella having days off of school, it just didn’t happen. I like by the “failure is not an option” creed. I hate to fail pretty much more than I hate anything, except barfing. It doesn’t sit when with me…it was just not how I was raised. Mintz girls are overachievers by nature and even though we weren’t made to run (we really weren’t, I assure you) my sister is a running goddess and reports of 9, 10, 13 mile runs and I KNOW I could do it if I trained properly. So, I thought about run-walking it and then I realized that my health is just going to have to outweigh my pride on this one. And while I know I may be letting several people down, this is the best decision FOR ME. and I may actually train for a half-marathon some day, and maybe I won’t, but I WILL be at the finish line on Thursday morning waiting for people I love to cross. and I can live with that.
I wish I had something more exciting than naps and New Moon and Pumpkin-related obsessions and half-marathon failures to report. But, you know, it’s Monday.