What a beautiful, sunny weekend.
I’ve got the sunburn to prove it.
Saturday I spent running around town, doing long overdue errands and getting things in order.
Then I put on an outfit that was far outside of my comfort zone (re: not black) and headed downtown to celebrate my lovely bride-to-be friend ML.
There was vodka.
There was dancing.
There always is.
I made it home by 1:00 AM, which was a pretty good accomplishment since the party was still pretty much rocking when I left.
But alas, I had an early morning race to attend, so I hopped in a cab with CJ, battled it out over who got dropped off first (I won- I owe you a couple, pal) and fell into bed.
Six hours later, I tipped back some water, threw on my running gear, and downed a couple of ibuprofen for good measure.
On an empty stomach.
Which really was one of my worst ideas.
I was still feeling a little shaky by the time we approached the starting line, but JW insisted it was a personal record day.
I insisted I might need someone to carry me out of there.
As you can see, it was a busy day at the races.
Luckily for me, it was a beautiful morning and I had an awesome playlist.
However, that can only get you so far.
When I had just about decided I’d run out of (mental) steam around mile 3, I saw a wave out of the corner of my eyes.
It was my friend, MC, and she came right to my rescue.
MC and I have run a lot of races together, and she’s pretty much the world’s best pacer. She’s steady as can be, and she quickly set me and my mental block straight.
And JW and I finished the race with a set of shiny new PRs, despite my lackluster start.
I love you, race season.
After some refreshments and a little live music, the crew wandered in the direction of Wicker Park, but not without first getting stuck on a blue line train for oh, fifteen minutes or so.
And so it goes.
When we finally hit up Moonshine for brunch, we were starving.
And it was almost nap time.
We sat outside in the sun, drank coffee, downed water (a pitcher of it, in JW’s case) and chatted.
Then brunch came, and no one was very interested in any more conversation.
My egg-cheese-bacon sandwich was delicious. It also came with a side of crispy potatoes that was basically just breakfast code for “french fries.”
I’d recommend getting yourself there sometime in the near future.
The rest of the night played out in a quick rest, an indoor soccer game (in which MC and I had a little trouble moving our limbs any faster than, well, a shuffle), and a great dinner in Pilsen at Nuevo Leon.
All I want to do is eat their chorizo cheese dip every day.
Lastly, I spent the night getting back into Mad Men.
Bring it on, Don Draper and Co. You bitches are all crazy.
And I love it.
Let’s get this week started, chickens!