I am sitting at the bar at Second Street Brewery. Alone. I swear this is where I was supposed to meet everyone, and I even looked up their Facebook post, and this is where it said they go after the Thursday night run. But there’s a band tonight and the place is crazy and I guess the running crowd had to go somewhere else …?
I will be dining alone again. Not the world’s worst fate for sure. I wonder if the people at the bar next to me are horrified by my slight sweatiness. It was a cold run, so it’s not so bad, I think, but it’s really impossible to tell about oneself. Oh god.
The run went pretty well…
Okay. I fell down. I’m not even making this up for interesting blogging. I’d love to say I’m not but I’m way too proud.
Anyway, I met a few people when the run started. The store owner, John, who is also an elite coach and all around badass as far as I can tell, remembered me and introduced me, which was totally sweet. And what was even sweeter was that he ran the entire sixish miles with me. Just me. Most of this wicked fast group was way ahead, though there was a pack behind us too. The route was crazy confusing, which made me all the more grateful that he was there … until I, totally enamoured with the sunset over the mountains ahead of me, tripped over a cracked, raised bit of sidewalk. I jumped right back up, as stupid embarrassed people often do. John was so concerned, and I was all, Oh, no, I’m totally fine, which was a LIE. I’m sure you knew that. I fell on my left knee, and it’s definitely going to have a sweet bruise, but I’m pretty sure no permanent damage was done. I am such a joyful bag of mess. Good lord.
Anyway, my bison burger is here and I have a really great porter, so I’m going to carry on. Besides, I also signed up for salsa lessons today. Which means there’s more forthcoming humiliation for you to enjoy …
Adios, mi amigos.