Thanks to a tip from 21st C. Mom, to avoid blowing my gasket driving all around creation last weekend, I bid on a car from Priceline, and for $20 a day was promised a mid-sized car in which to lug all of Number One Daughter's many many MANY things back to school. Instead, the nice people at Hertz gave me this:
Now, I'm totally anti-SUV, anti-mini-van, anti-car really, but I gotta say: the world looks different when you can actually see where you are going! And when you don't have to run the heater to cool down the engine. It was awesome. I meant to take photos of me licking the thing, but ran out of time. It only took me 20 years to become a soccer mom. Well, it was fun while it lasted.
On to the road trip!
Well, first, I was here:
(Number One Daughter breaking the blinds in her new just-outside-of-Philly-right-above-a-nail salon-cum-pizza-place-apartment, as the BF cheerfully watches, and the mother takes photos. This room will be shared by two girls.)And then? I was here!
(Surrounded by topless boys! At last! Dear friends D and B, hubba hubba.)And now, I'm back in paradise:
(Look at the progress since my last posting!)Actually, there has been progress.
1. Bathroom. Upstairs landlord responsible for hole in ceiling settled with me for $3,500. Now, I just need to borrow a bit more and I'll have a HOLE new bathroom!
2. Car. Second trip back to the dealer revealed that—are ya ready?—the cap was loose on the radiator. There is no blown gasket, no cracked gasket. In fact, there may not be any gasket of any kind. And, the dealer AT no charge kindly TURNED THE LID on the radiator to tighten it. They swear that a LOOSE radiator lid was causing my engine to overheat. (Is there a mechanic in the house?) I mean, really. Whatever, the car hasn't overheated yet, and now I have it in writing that nothing is wrong with it.
3. Running. Yes, this is a blog about running. Sort of. I ran 90 minutes at the beach with B, pictured above. OK, actually we ran 1 hour and 24 minutes but who's counting. I have no idea if we were running 12 minute miles, 11 minute miles, or 10 minute miles (ha ha), but if past performance is any indicator, 86 minutes got me near 8 miles. Maybe.
We got up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning, after a late Friday night spent frolicking, giggling, talking politics, knitting, iPhones, and weddings. Yet B., God bless him, got up at the crack and got me out the door. We ran all over Rehoboth, hither and yon, and had a great conversation. He'd probably say it was a good walk spoilt, but I swear we were running. I felt good afterwards, too!
I was back at NBTR headquarters Sunday night, where I immediately plunged into NOD-withdrawal. Sigh. I'm sure she's missing me too (NOT).
Monday: Couldn't face work. Could. Not. Face. It. But like the Good Soldier I am, face it I did. What I really couldn't face was running before work. So I ran four crappy miles in the evening.
Today, Wednesday, I set out to repeat last week's feat of six miles before 7 a.m. (six before seven! Trademark!) I got through mile five and that was the end of that. I slog/walked the last mile back. I think it must have been the glass of wine I had Saturday night. Or my general malaise. (See, Laurie? I actually had a good run Saturday morning! So no more conjuring me on those rare occasions when your runs go bad! Ha!)
I have three miles to run on Friday, then eight on Saturday with my group.
I have no clever way to end this post. Huh.
How about we end this way? It was good enough for Bogey.
Here's looking at you, kid.
