My husband and I were not feeling too cheery this morning after what for us was a wild party night.  He had three beers and I had two piccolos of sparkling wine, which is about the most either of us ever drink at one time.  The kicker was that when we got home we gorged ourselves on chocolate.  This is very unlike us.  Chalk it up to post-event-organizing decompression.

Nonetheless, one of our first morning conversations was to ask him to carry some large  bricks to the front yard.  Over the past few days I’ve been shoring up the front garden with a makeshift cement block wall.  I got to work on reconciling some financial stuff for the gala and before I knew it, there was not much time left to run before work. I ran three easy miles. I weighed myself for the first time in a couple of weeks and was surprised to find myself down a pound to 109.  This is a not-too-skinny weight for someone who is 5 foot 1 inch tall.  It was it bit surprising, given I have really cut back on the miles in the past few weeks but it may be due to loss of muscle mass.

CHOCOLATE DECOMPRESSION

The usual group of Saturday runners are injured, out-of-town, preparing to go out-of-town and MIA.  It will be tough to get myself out the door tomorrow morning.  Sigh . . . pass the chocolate honey.