Know what is TOTALLY hot? Runners. Running girls, with sweaty ponytails, mismatched running clothes, a band of plastic strapped around their chest (that's for the heart rate monitor), a plastic watch (it's a Garmin, shut up.)
No, no, I am not going to pretend I am running again, but... I have run 1.69 miles each day for the last two days. And that stupid watch thinks I ought to be hitting 9 minute miles (For. Real.) so I've actually really been trying hard. To hit 12 minute miles, which is much more my speed. Literally.
And this is the antithesis to what I would prefer to be doing, which is either playing Wii Jeopardy (the only show I miss on tv.) or working on my puzzle. Holy eff, I am 100 years old.
At any rate, so yeah, I've been running. Ish. I'd like to see what kind of distance I can get up to, but I'm still struggling with figuring out when to run. I could run after work, but then the kids don't eat until seven. Or, I could run after supper, but I'm so tirrrrrred. Wah fucking wah, hunh?
So the watch was my Big Christmas Present, and it's pretty great. I also got some books, some money, some gift cards. Good stuff. A donut maker, and that's sort of unexpected, but it's red, ergo, cute.
The Russian contingency is BACK and I'm super pysched, but I haven't seen them yet or snuggled my new nephew (who is, apparently, rather snuggly) so that sort of sucks, but I'm a few short days of getting that fixed. Come on, Saturday!
And I have nothing else, which means, time for kittens! WAIT NO - look, this is my favorite dog in the whole wide world (except my gay boyfriend's dog, Bradley, because he is family.):
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