Too Hot to Trot

T-day. It happened. It was awesome. My pumpkin pies were delicious. Okay, they weren't perfection. To be quite honest, the crust (I made from scratch) was overdone and the filling was made with Splenda cause I was too lazy to go to the store for real sugar. However, I worked with what I had and it turned out just fine. Fine enough for me to have consumed almost a whole pie in the span of four days. Boy did I eat. But that's for later. For now I relate to you the semi consecutive adventures of the Thanksgiving weekend.

Wednesday was pure bliss because The Secretary let all us non-essential Smithsonian workers out three hours early. Now that's what I'm talking about. Thanks, G. Wayne! You're a good man, Charlie Brown! So Wednesday I got home, made some pies, made some pizza pie with Roomie B and just hung out like it was my job. However, I couldn't get too rowdy because I was poised to wake up at 6:30 AM Thanksgiving morning to drive out to Centreville, VA, for the Virginia Run Turkey Trot 5K. Me and the two Roomies B & K were running proudly as the PHC (penthouse club - cause we all live on the second floor of our house, natch). Disclaimer - I'm NOT a runner! I know I've mentioned this mutliple times in the past, but let me reiterate. I'm not a runner, peeps. I had never in my life run a full 3.2 miles and I did not anticipate starting on Thanksgiving morning. My last and only other 5K took me about 48 minutes or so cause I walked half the time. So I wasn't about to run the whole thing this time. And let me tell you something else, I made it known. I used every opportunity to let my patient roommates know that I was not going to be fast and that I wasn't expecting them to wait on me because I was such a turtle and blah blah blah. Of course, they were too nice to listen to my not-so-subtle hints and they stuck with me. They even refuse to acknowledge that they would have had a much faster finish time if they hadn't been tracking with me. So kudos to those angels of mercy. And you know what? I ran it. R-A-N it. The whole thing!!! 3.2 miles!!! I didn't walk ONCE! WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?????

Um, seriously. I was so impressed with me that I couldn't handle it. Well, not whilst I was running, but rather once I could see the finish line. I wasn't impressed with me when I was having fantasies of falling and breaking my ankle so someone would have to carry me the rest of the way. I had all sorts of beautiful daydreams about maiming my legs or falling over crying or something - anything so that I wouldn't have to run the rest of the way. And I am such a BORE when I run! Okay, a Scrooge. Not even a bore, but a straight up Scrooge. I can't think about anything else but the movement of my legs and arms and I really have to concentrate so that I don't wimp out every other 2. So I can't be all jovial and talky and laughy like my roommates who are in much better shape than I. They were making jokes and being fun and then there was me, trudging slightly behind them, the biggest frown on my face the whole time. Breathe in, two three, and OUT, two three, and IN two three, and OUT two three. And spit. (And don't try to give me advice on the whole "mental" aspect of running and all that hooey. I don't care. It sucks.) And I feel every stomp I make on that pavement. So if you ever ask me to go on a run with you, beware, I'm grumpy. Oh, but everyone else was having a good time. There were over 4,300 runners out that day, many with turkey hats and some in costume and all with smiles on their faces. Ugh, happy runners. But let me tell you, when I saw that finish line and realized that I really could handle running the entire way I started sprinting. I looked at K & B like yes-let's-do-this-thing (and they were probably surprised that I remember how to be a pleasant person) and then we all started cheetah-ing towards the finish line. Made the trek in 34:41. HUZZAH! My mood lightened considerably from that point on.

So after that bout of pure awesomeness (on everyone's part - thanks again to the angels of mercy for their great patience and forbearance...and my guardian angel who was keeping my lungs pumping the whole time with no help from me) we got a little Starbucks to celebrate and Roomie K and I headed to Fairfax, VA, for Thanksgiving dinner at her parents house. Good times, noodle salad. Well, no noodle salad, but plenty of other good food. Kristen and I actually cooked the turkey ourselves. I know! What a weekend of firsts. Pies, miles, poultry. The rest of T-day was spent indulging in good food and drink, laughing with friends and playing board games. That night Roomie K and I headed home with great plans to sleep as long as possible until sometime the next day.

Friday = BLISS! I did nothing. Repeat (w/ slight alteration): practically nothing. Unfortunately woke up earlier than I'd hoped, 8:30 ish, but spent the rest of the day lounging in the library, reading, eating pie, watching movies, and not venturing outside at all. All in my pj's. Well, until about 7 or so at night. By the way, I'm rereading Mansfield Park and I love it. I want to read it aloud to myself in a terrible British accent but that would be weird cause other people would hear me. It made me reminisce about the first time I realized that I loved Jane Austen. It was Aunt Jan and Auntie Beverly who got me hooked on the Austen. Shout out! Anyhoo, Friday night Roomie K and I decided we simply must have a Christmas tree. We went to our favorite local Home Depot and got this precious little fir tree just right for our library. We decided not to decorate until the morrow, read some more, and retired for the night.

Saturday morning I woke up to go see Uncle Cracker at 9. He popped my back and put those electrode thingies on my back again. They make my muscles spazz a little, so it'd be kind of funny to see me, face down on the table, my shoulders popping and locking to an unheard beat. I kind of laughed at me. He says I'm doing well and that my appointments can be more spread out. I say, no thanks. I'm not a repeat doctor visitor. In fact, I'm hardly a doctor visitor at all. His staff should anticipate me calling to cancel my next appointment and then never calling back to reschedule. My back feels good and I'm done with doctor visits for 2009 (*knock on wood*).

Saturday early afternoon I was off to Baltimore with Roomie K and her mom to check out an antiques place in the former industrial district of the city. (It's called Housing Werks or something like that for all you Google fiends.) The stuff there wasn't very appealing because it was all very unfinished and haphazardly strewn about, but the building was impressive and it was cool to imagine how I'd use the old circus sign in my new cool industrial-style decorated house with exposed brick and contemporary furniture. Or whatever. Next stop, B-more's Little Italy for lunch at Cafe Gia. Delicious sausage ravioli. Yum. Then a little walk to Fell's Point and the drive back to DC. The rest of Saturday we spent shopping for shoes (not I, I was just the encourager), buying Christmas decorations, and trimming the tree. I haven't taken any pictures yet, but you won't even be able to handle how amazing my house is with lights on the front porch and the tree twinkling in the light of a thousand electric faeries. I'll take some pictures and post them soon. Get ready, for you will be smitten.

Sunday was church, crying toddlers snotting all over my nice navy sweater (cute little tykes with their oh-so-believable crocodile tears), another run, and a Messiah sing. I will expound on the last two items.

Alright, I know that it's not polite or very Christ-like to brag. Jesus could probably do the Ironman and win and he'd be like, "Oh it's no big deal, it was God, not me." Well I'm hardly that free of pride. I mean, I just can't believe that I can run at all, especially because I fantasize about broken bones the whole time I'm doing it. But on Sunday I ran 3.5 miles. The whole thing. No walking. Yes, pride. I'm suffering from it. Whilst running I thought it might be nice if I accidentally stepped off the pavement and twisted my ankle. I thought maybe I could come up with some excuse to start bawling on the trail and wail that I just "couldn't do it anymore." But Roomie K has the patience and encouragement of a saint. She said, "we've hit 30 minutes so let's run till 40" and because she was being nice enough to keep pace with me I thought I'd throw her a bone and not break my leg on purpose. No pun intended. And because I knew I'd run for almost 35 minutes just a few days before I knew that I actually could do it. So I've accomplished my one running goal I've ever had in my life. I can now run a 5K. In fact, I signed up for another one in a couple weeks. WHO AM I??? I'm so NOT a runner, and don't you DARE try to get me to train for anything that has "thon" at the end of it because I might cut you. I guess since it's not killing me, it's making me stronger. Who knew? Ugh.

Oh, and the Messiah sing. You ever been to one of these before? I never had. I walk by the Clarendon United Methodist Church everyday on my way to/from the metro stop and I noticed they were having a Messiah sing on the night of the 29th. I though, fun! I like to sing things about God during Christmas! (And also the rest of the year, thank you very much.) But I had no idea that when they say Messiah Sing they mean that they'll furnish the soloists and instrumentalists and that YOU are the choir. The audience was the choir! I had no clue! And it was pure a-w-e-s-o-m-e! Oh man, I loved it. It was like being in choir again. We sang Part I of the Messiah, and the "Hallelujah Chorus" as the encore. I sang soprano. Um, those parts are really hard. Why was it cool at the time to string 96,000 sixteenth notes together on one syllable? "And he shall puri-fyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!" Handel was all about the melismas, I guess. And I didn't hit every high A, or the one high b-flat, but I got most of them. And I guess I was singing kind of loud cause the people in front of me noticed. Oops. Sorry, I got too excited! They're finishing up Parts II and III in April with another sing-a-long, so I'm definitely going back for that.

So there, that was my weekend. Lots of words to describe what now seems like just a few short hours. But I'm back at work and preparing for my performance review tomorrow morning (gag). But three weeks from tomorrow I will be winging my way to Tulsa. There's something to look forward to :).

Runner out.