Looking back, I don't know why I even bothered to pack workout clothes. I love Vegas -- the 24-7 entertainment, the freaky drunks, the foreigners, the casinos, the shows, the food, the fact that the entire city is a monument to greed, stimulation, and instant gratification -- and the thought that I could, or would, squeeze in a run or any other type of workout is kind of preposterous, especially given my level of motivation lately. But I packed running clothes nevertheless. ONE outfit, so it wasn't like I was planning to go crazy, or anything.
Friday evening, we weren't planning to leave until after dark. I get off work at 3:30, so conceivably there was time to squeeze in at least a quick swim before departure. But by the time I dropped off the dog at the dog sitter's house, then returned home and cleaned the house for the house sitter, then packed my suitcase, that time had sort of evaporated.
Saturday, 12:00 a.m.: Made it to a motel in Flagstaff. Flagstaff was COLD. I could, technically, have squeezed in a run in Saturday morning, since I got up at 7 and Tim slept till 9. But, seriously, it was 38 degrees out and I was wearing a fleece. Hardly running weather; much easier to sit in the motel lobby and drink coffee and read my book for a couple of hours. So that's what I did.
Saturday, 2:00 p.m.: Arrived in Vegas. It was hot, too hot for a run. Besides, Mom was there at my brother's house, so visiting was called for. The sun set and it started to cool off, but then it was time to introduce Tim to the Strip, not time to run. We parked at Mandalay Bay and walked up to the MGM Grand, eating at Panda Express along the way, and then decided to catch a 10:30 cabaret show, the Crazy Horse. That show got out at midnight, so by the time we got back home, it was pretty clear that an early morning run would NOT be happening on Sunday.
Sunday, 8:00 a.m.: Woke up, contemplated running. Had coffee and then went back to bed instead. Decided to count last night's Strip walking as a workout. (Hey, there were a lot of stairs involved since every up escalator between Mandalay and the MGM seemed to be out of service.)
Sunday, 1:00 p.m.: Finally got up and got dressed. Tim was still sick from giardia. We left him at home in bed while Mom and I went to see The Social Network at the theater.
Sunday, 5:00 p.m.: Went to dinner at Hash House A Go Go, where I ordered Sage Fried Chicken Benedict, which, when it arrived, turned out to be a mountain of food: giant fried chicken breast piled on top of tomatoes, garlic mashed potatoes, an enormous biscuit, and a mound of eggs, and topped with bacon and creamy chipotle sauce. Oh, and an 8-inch-tall sprig of rosemary stuck in the top of the food pile like a conquering flag. I had already stuffed myself on biscuits prior to the arrival of the food, so could only nibble at it. In reality, that was too much food even for me. (Tim was still sick but nevertheless valiantly got himself up for dinner, AND ate it. That's the spirit!)
Sunday, 7:30 p.m.: Cirque du Soleil Zumanity at New York, New York. Wonderful show. During one of the acts, one of the cast members came up to us and asked Tim and I if we were together and if we would like to go up on stage. We had to pass because Tim was still sick and really didn't want to put his giardia on display for the Zumanity audience. Guess we will just have to go back since normally both of us would welcome an opportunity to take center stage in a "naughty" show. Show was out by 9:00, home by 9:30, so no excuse not to get up for a morning run on Monday.
Sunday, 9:30 p.m.: Birthday party for Mom with surprise bundt cake -- spice flavor with cream cheese icing. Mmmm. I had two pieces, which was OK because I would run them off in the morning.
Monday, 6:45 a.m.: I'm awake and in my running clothes, waiting for coffee to brew and posting on Facebook about how I don't want to run.
Monday, 8:00 a.m.: I'm drinking my second cup of coffee on my brother's couch, absorbed in my book, Oscar and Lucinda, a novel about a romance in 1860's Australia. It's really good. I have admitted to myself that I won't run even though I'm in running clothes. Why? Because I don't want to.
Monday, 7:00 pm.: We're home. I should take the dogs for a run because they are all worked up from us being gone and from not having exercised all day. I'm still in my running clothes from this morning. We don't go for a run.
Tuesday, 9:00 a.m.: I'm at work. Empty schedule today so nothing to do but write my blog and wonder if I will run tonight.
Days to Mt. Lemmon Marathon: 5. Day of my last run: Sunday the 2nd. Day of my last workout: Tuesday the 5th. It was a swim. I better run tonight.
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