I hate you Nachos!

Nachos, I love you. Such is my relationship with mass produced food. I had dinner with friends tonight. I had the nachos supremeo fantistico or gigantico or some such nonsense and two beers. Don’t get me wrong. Neither morsel of ground beef nor crumb of fried tortilla was left when the frenzy subsided. A lone data point of evidence alluding to the horror to which my poor friends were subjected is the guacamole stain on my sleeve. I am 17 pounds overweight for a person my size who wishes to exercise recreationally. I am 27 pounds overweight for someone wishing to exercise at an advanced level. I’m going to shoot for somewhere in the middle.

Today was going to be a day off from running as I had run the past three days. Nachos changed my mind. I got home and out the door for my run a little after 9 pm. It was 43˚F, lightly raining with winds from the west southwest at 8 mph. It’s good to know that I can get by with two layers up top and one layer below for this type of weather. I’ve written in the past about running in the rain, so I don’t think I’ll rehash the subject. Suffice it to say, it was exhilarating. Oh, one other thing, 8 point 5 freakin' miles.