Last Friday I did a 2/2 for 8 miles. Again on Monday and Wednesday. Took it easy today (friday) and just did a 2/2 for 5 miles. Found to my surprise I weigh just 202 pounds. My lightest in 19 years. Must remember that people don't want to hear about it. Have been trying to eat a bit better since watching Forks over Knives. Plus this running is getting sufficiently hardcore.
I've grown to love beer. Drink one or two each night. And I'm really feeling good. Sleeping well. Running well. Etc.
Went to a play in DC with S. Just me (a married man) and this attractive single lady. In the islamic theocracies, a woman may never be alone with a man who is not of her family. This because they're disgusting barbarians. The men see an ankle and start slobbering. Perhaps the women are exactly the same? Perhaps there's some truth to 1001 Arabian Nights and perhaps this in turn exactly led to FGM and completely hiding their bodies and so on. Maybe it was either dump a canvass over them, cut off their private parts and chain'em up, or orgies in the streets!
Nothing remotely inappropriate happened with me and S. 8 hours in a car together. Dinner, wandering around Georgetown and watched Uncle Vanya. It's as if we're actually civilized people.
OTOH, neither of us have reproduced and possibly neither of us ever will.
Uncle Vanya was like a formulaic-for-the-masses story but old Russian style, which is to say it has comedy, and romance, and a heavy dose of existential nihlism. Uncle Vanya is basically having a midlife crisis. Strangely while getting a buzz drinking 8.5% ALC at dinner before it I basically said exactly what it was saying, about just do something, divert yourself from the cold, awful reality and soldier on. Basically summarizing the movie, (minus the comedy and romance). I've never read Chekov. Wasn't familiar with the play at all.
Aren't I special?
Today I've eaten 3/4ths a loaf of bread, some peas (with garlic and tomatoes) and had a beer. I don't crave anything bad. Feel good. But I don't want to fall below 200 pounds.
