The Married Version of Liz Lemon
March 10th, 2011
I really am. The similarities strike me every day.
I wish you could see me right now. I asked Dave to take a picture of me to share, but he refused, so I’ll just explain.
I just took a shower and I’m letting my hair dry which is always a frightening sight. My hair has a mind of its own and I usually need to beat it into submission with a flat iron.
I’m wearing my beloved cloud bathrobe…complimented by my stained, oversized Pitt sweatpants.
Also: slipper socks.
And I have a spoon, digging out every little morsel of White Chocolate Wonderful PB out of the jar. I would lick it if I could.
It’s true what they say: you let yourself go once you’re married.
Wait, who am I kidding? I never had myself together. I don’t know why Dave married me because it certainly wasn’t for my looks. Must have been for my money. Nope, don’t have that either.
He’s crazy. Yea, that’s it.
But so am I…and so is Ashley.
It was pouring rain today, but we still met at the track for a speed workout, albeit an abbreviated one.
Ashley texted me this afternoon saying that she hopes the rain slows down.
My fingers responded before my brain knew what I was doing: We can do it! We are so hard core.
I hate myself.
I have no desire to look at my Garmin, but I’m assuming that we did about 3.5 miles. A warm up, some 400s, and a cool down. It was miserable. I was soaked to the bone, but hey! We did it.
And you guys…the water contest. Hilarious! Dave and I had no intention of drinking our body weight in water. It was just a way to get us to drink more water than we usually do. I hit about 2 liters (including my tea), and Dave had more than that. I lost. Boo.
I probably absorbed more water on my run tonight than from my water bottles.
I’m out. I have more water to drink. I’m just going to head down to the Ohio River with a straw.