I think I may have experienced the most fun weekend. Ok, that's an overstatement, but it was a darn good time. Friday night I somehow managed to convince the bf to stay home with me instead of going out to the bars. We ate subs, went to the park to "play," and then to the cheap theaters to see Push. Which was super good. Afterward we came home and made attempt 12 at watching Oceans 13. I really, REALLY struggle at sitting through movies, so we seriously had stopped and started this movie almost everyday for a week and a half, sloooowly creeping through it.
Most of Saturday post race and Sunday was spent laying in bed watching more movies. Specifically: Marley & Me (bawl fest), The Italian Job, Journey to the Center of the Earth, as well as unsuccessful attempts at In Her Shoes & The Number 23.
Sunday I broke out the new toy for my 6 mile run. It was 45-ish degrees, but super windy and spitty out. I think that's an official meteorological term anyway. I waaay over dressed, managed to sweat through a hoodie (???) but had freezing cold fingers. Go figure. Plus I think I spent every other second staring at the screen to see what it would tell me. Finally I just covered it with my sweatshirt sleeve, because the miles tend to draaaaaag on when you're monitoring them obsessively. Weird. I've determined that 6 miles is my least favorite distance. The last 6 miler I did was awful. 5 miles=awesome. 7 miles=awesome. 6 miles=suckfest. Remind me never to do a 10k.
After my run I treated myself, and the loverboy to AMAZING french toast with fresh strawberries on top. I've been dreaming about them all day today. While I was cooking the boyfriend decided (or maybe I threw down the utensils and gawked completely uninvited) to treat me to a push-up session sans shirt. Yowza. Great weekend indeed.