We're walking, we're walking...

And so we come to the conclusion of a pretty terrific weekend, that has been replaced by an initially unpleasant and now just kind of "meh" work week. But, as the camel in that commercial knows, it's Wednesday, and that is just terrific.

So Sunday I started the day with my first visit to mass in several months. Back in January I resolved to go to church every week, which quickly become every other week, and then...

But I'm back on track now! I went to Barrett's church last week and Catholic church this one, and actually got something out of it both times. I'm going to make a slight effort to be more Jesus-y, and we'll see where that goes. Perhaps you'll get a quality entry on Eleanor's weird thoughts on religion one day, but I'll have to work hard to still make that hilarious.

Anywho, post-church, I would've been all about a nap, but alas, it was not to be. Due to my endless quest to be fit and healthy and fabulous looking (a quest at which I frequently fail - see: the apple pie I may or may not have purchased from Kroger at 10:30 last night) I wanted to get back on the horse of Sunday runs, preferably of at least the six mile variety.

So Barrett and I set out for the trail we usually run on, he with like 8,000 pounds of bricks in his backpack (it's a thing) and me feeling like I'd rather be asleep.

But lo and behold, about a mile and a half in, I was feeling pretty good. As I am slow, and running is hard, and I'm not 6'4", I generally fall behind on these runs. But here I was, still leading by a considerable margin, well past the halfway point of the initial stretch!

In fact, I could not even see Barrett. Although initially inclined to celebrate my awesomeness, I started to grow concerned he may have broken all his bones and was being eaten alive by squirrels, so at two miles - despite the fact that I was feeling like a world beater and reflecting on the beauty of nature while rocking out to the Decemberists, circa 2007 - I turned around and headed back, ready to intimidate my squirrels.

Turns out his brick-carrying backpack was just not the best, and did not hold up super great during the running. We decided our best course of action would be walking - an additional five miles.

That was a lot. If you add up my weekend, we've got two miles of running Saturday, followed by two miles of running Sunday, followed by five miles of walking Sunday. THAT'S NINE MILES - SO MANY MILES!

But I survived, and my legs only moderately felt like they were going to fall off. And then we watched Interview With the Vampire and I just don't really know how to feel about that movie.

The end. I wish I was more hilarious - maybe next time.