I still can't believe I haven't written about my amazing weekend yet.
In preparation for Saturday's 10 mile march, I stepped out on Friday for a 5 mile walk to the gym and over an hour of intense calisthenics, followed by a cool down on the elliptical for 20 minutes. It felt great! My new favorite thing is the Bosu Ball:
I like to use it for back support when I'm doing oblique work with a medicine ball. I also like to turn it upside down for use as a balance board. A few months ago, I was AWFUL at balancing on this thing. Now that my legs and core have gotten stronger, I can handle it pretty well. My gym has a room full of stripper poles for pole-dancing classes, so I put the ball next to one of those and use it to support myself as I climb up. Then I do some squats, grabbing the pole only when I'm going to crash. I like to link my fingers and stretch my arms over my head, seeing how long I can stay balanced. The possibilities are pretty endless.
I also got me a baller ass pair of New Balances. I don't want to dig up the pic, but they're babe blue, and they cushion my heels like God would if He were a foot fetishist.
I carbed up on Friday night with a baguette and my favorite Italian bean salad from L'Appetito. I need to learn to make this stuff - it's amazing! It's made up of 3 types of beans tossed in this herbed vinaigrette. I use the baguette to sop up the excess vinaigrette. Normally I'm not a fan of oily dressings, but this sauce is PERFECT.
I woke up Saturday and l stayed in bed for awhile to make sure I wasn't going to fall back asleep. Okay, I was just avoiding the inevitable. I made an egg white omelet with asparagus and horseradish cheese (raved about in Hot Beef Injection), downed a pot of coffee, and checked the weather. I took my time getting dressed up because I wanted to make sure I was prepared...and I needed to take a precautionary dump before I hit the trail.
I finally left the apartment at 12:00 pm, took the Red Line north to the Purple Line, and took the PL all the way to the end of the line - Linden. I'll tell ya, the Linden stop is nothing to write home about, so I will. I know the area pretty well now, because I had to scour it for a public bathroom once I got off the train. I went to this little coffee shop, and knowing they probably wouldn't let me pee with out purchase, I got one of their "all fruit smoothies." When I asked what it was made of, the guy was like, "It's all fresh fruit." Suuuuuure it is. I didn't want to argue so I laid my money down, went to the bathroom and picked up my smoothie. Another customer came in and asked what was inside it, and he said, "Well, it's ice and this frozen fruit puree we get shipped in....but it's made from real fruit." I KNEW IT! I was eating a sugar-happy treat. Oh well. I guess I needed the carbs.
The walk pretty much went according to plan. I headed east, took a gander at the Baha'i temple, and headed south back home. The first part of the trip was pretty boring; Wilmette's lakefront is pretty much private property of mansion dwellers, so I had to stick to Sheridan road. I went through the Northwestern University campus and had to stop for a pee break at a chapel, which I practically had to break into. Not really. I just couldn't work the door closest to the road, and had to walk around back to the public entrance, but I left through the first door I tried. I think I left it unlocked. Oh well, they have security guards for that business.
When I hit the northside of Evanston, I got to a beachfront path that was more enjoyable. I got to see some of the aircraft whizz by for the Air and Water Show. Saw a stealth bomber that nearly made me soil myself.
I stopped at the 6 mile mark for a brief rest at the Subway on the Loyola campus. They were kind to me last weekend when I asked to use their restroom. I got a turkey sandwich and took a half hour to refuel. I had to train myself to walk again once I left.
The rest of the trip was uneventful. I started to wear down at the mile and a half mark, but I did succeed in my quest. I thought I would jump up and down once I got to Irving Park Rd, but I just couldn't. I stretched and bounced my knees a little, but I don't think anyone could confuse that with the joy of a champion. Plus I had a pretty shitty look on my face.
I stopped for some G2 - the lower-cal Gatorade that I love. The clock by the cash register read 5:30, and for the first time in 4 miles, I smiled. I made in just the time I expected.
I took a shower and a long bath, read some of my book. At about 7:30 I headed out to get some dinner, and I had no idea what I wanted. I wasn't feeling hungry, but I was, and I could eat anything - my mind raced between chicken, pancakes, Taco Bell, White Castle. The world was my oyster. As I left, I was talking to my friend Eric on the phone, and I ended up mindlessly hobbling for another mile or so down the street when I realized I was in painful ballet flats with no arch support. I hung up, and walked into Stella's Diner, if only because I didn't want to walk anymore.
I got me a side salad with ranch dressing, a roast beef Manhattan - an amalgam of white bread, sliced roast beef, gravy and mashed potatoes - and I finished the whole thing off with apple cobbler a la mode. It was glorious. Again - I didn't feel hungry, but I attacked that Manhattan like I was King Kong. I shoveled food into my mouth without cutting it, some pieces as big as 4 inches in diameter. I couldn't get enough. The salt, the carbs, the protein? I could have had another plate of that shizz.
I went home and popped some Tylenol, and I wasn't even sore the next day. It was a pretty good weekend.
This week: Kenilworth to Irving Park.
So there's that,