Forget about any type of portion control. Fox Bros. Yum! We had stuffed jalapenos with pulled pork in them, and Texas fries (fries with brisket, cheese and ranch). I was going to get smoked chicken and saw someone's smoked beef fillet. HAD TO HAVE IT! With Homemade Macaroni and Cheese as one side and Homemade Macaroni and Cheese and Brunswick Stew mixed as the other. I did manage to leave one side and half the meat on the plate. Why? Oh because then I had to get chocolate cheesecake on top of raspberry cheesecake on top of pound cake. D was not as enamored with this as I was (although he ate it). We got home and Pajama Jeans would've been awesome. Instead my black sweat pants came out. If I had had a mumu, that would have come out.
Tuesday was a 4 mile run. Nothing exciting about it. Wednesday was a 2 mile speed workout. However it was 60 degrees. I was home early from the doctor (I'm healthy and my total cholesterol is 128, tyvm!) I looked at SB and he looked at me. We went for a slow run (32 minutes to smell leaves, pee a zillion times, run some hills).
Thursday, I was just having a day at work. So I postponed my run to Sunday. I did lose .5 pounds.
Friday was my birthday. D and I went to Milltown and saw Clay. Had a beer and then we hit Tierra. We decided to forgo Saturday's run and go back to see Clay. However, first I got a bottle of wine Lorinon Rioja Reserva. I'm allergic to wine. However this one didn't close the back of my throat (yes, I can't explain being allergic yet ordering...wine allergy is less annoying than the turkey allergy). Anyway, homemade black bean soup, followed by this trout chile relleno thing. Everything was good. But I don't come to Tierra for the dinner. I come for Tres Leches. The most awesome cake in the world. And with homemade Dulce de Leche Ice Cream (yes, I picked a restaurant for cake when it doesn't have a good beer list, that's how good the cake is). So the Tres Leches comes out with the ice cream. Awesome as always. Of course, again I need stretchy pants. So going to see Clay is no longer an option. So we went home and played with SB.
Saturday I got up and took SB running. I believe I can't take SB running because it is taking too long, and I'm not really pushing myself. 6 miles. He is tired on 5 miles. I'm tired of pulling him home by mile 5.5. So I think that was the last run for awhile. Here is a pick of mile 1.2, 2.9 and 4.3 (my loops change as I run). Yes that is a prison.
My second favorite stretch of street on my run (the first street got rid of the Penis Truck (truck with a penis painted on the side) so there is nothing to take a picture of).
Afterward, D and I went to the Beer Carnival. We met M and M there. It was 70 degrees out. Some people decided to wear boots and sundresses. This was the chick in front of me. Even from someone who just wished for Pajama Jeans, you know this is an awful look.
Much beer was consumed. So much, I got into a fight with the MARTA cop on the way home. First she was mad, D jumped the stall. He didn't but she didn't like that we used one ticket for 2 fares and made us pay for a new ticket for a 3rd fare. (You buy a ticket and then put the fare on it. We put $5 in and it didn't give us change, so we decided to use the ticket twice). Then she wanted to know why I didn't use my MARTA card (it is a POS and didn't work). Then apparently I was drunk (no!!!!). Hence why I wasn't driving but using MARTA. Then apparently, I didn't know what was at the MLK station (though I fully described this station). She didn't think I should go there for safety reasons. (Her unPC reasoning was white people don't go to that station.) I told her she should come with me and be my protection. After all she is the MARTA cop. (In fairness to her, it isn't the most safe area of Atlanta, but the most unsafe part is the actual MARTA Station. Once you get to the cemetery everything is lit up and you are fine if you stay on the main street.) Finally D got a new ticket and got through the gate and off we went to the MLK station. We walked (the horror!!!!) to Clay's and had 4 more beers. Then Clay called us a cab and we went home.
Sunday, that 4 miler didn't happen. Sleep did!