1. I put on a pair of capri-length shiny pants before I've usually roundhouse kicked the snooze button for the first time in the morning. It is impossible for me to put on capri length shiny pants early in the morning without stepping into some sort of mental time machine and wading through the Honey Weiss snores to tell a former version of me that I'm up early and off to do something supremely athletic.
"I mean," I said to Chuck in the car. "If I'd run this 5K in 2004, I would have had to stay up all night to make it to the starting line on time."
That's the kind of
2. I ran a 5K and, to the best of my knowledge, I don't remember a moment during the race where I considered quitting or asked the sky to unleash something, anything to put an end to this madness, i.e.: lightning, grasshoppers, acid. I did wonder if I might barf at the end, but I think that's my Pavlovian response to crossing a finish line.
Lest anyone care, here is a stat: I finished 5 minutes faster than in 2014. Here is a fact about that stat: No one should ever run a 3-ish mile race so slowly that they are able to finish 5 minutes faster the next year. It's unseemly. Still, if I finished five more minutes faster next year, well then I'd be damn near back to Lourdes Eagle territory.
Last year my body was still a little creaky, through no fault but my own laziness with post-preggo care, and I remember that my hips felt like the joints of a Barbie doll that has repeatedly been dismembered. I am, dare I say, back to normal aside from having the biceps of a bouncer (and the mouth of a trucker.)
3. We ate breakfast at a beloved neighborhood diner where they will actually open a can of hash and pour it into an omelette and serve it directly to my face. In fact, it's the diner's signature omelette. I love it so much that I actually let myself eat it even knowing what I know about the nutrition label on the side of a can of hash.
I wish that I'd never compared it to eating dog food, though. I have to really mentally put myself on a tropical island while I'm eating to keep the Purina flashes at bay.
4. We left Duluth within 30 minutes of our designated leave time and got to the Mall of America during The Girl's second REM cycle. The Parent's Pista were going to spend the afternoon with her while we attended a Co-ed Happy Hour Baby Shower (Flower Power Cower Bower).
Listen. I know that the Mall of America is whatever it is. I also know that it's the only place in the state where My Own Personal Shark Fanatic can stand in a darkened tunnel and watch sharks swim over her head. In fact, she's so smitten with the whole Sea Life setup that she actually thinks Sharks live in the sky. Ask her about sharks and she points up.
I digress. Also: TheMallOfAmericaHasUrbanOutfittersandDuluthdoesn't. (Nothing.)
5. On the way to the Co-ed Happy Hour Baby Shower, we stopped at Trader Joe's. Some day I would like to go into Trader Joe's and buy $300 worth of Trader Joe's brand things and then hide in my car and eat it all. Trader Joe's also makes me want to buy wine. I settled on a tub of pub cheese with horseradish flavor and some wheat pretzels, which I ate somewhat responsibly but not really if you consider a serving size.
6. The party was fun. Many of my favorite people gathered around a tray of devilled eggs and the strange knowledge that some people in my life don't even want to try a devilled egg. (These were made with Wasabi.) I won a prize because I found a fingernail sized plastic baby in the popcorn trough and knew to yell "OH BABY." I was rewarded with a $10 gift card to Anthropologie, a candy ring and a box of chewie somethings in a package that seemed a little racist.
7. Back to the Mall of America to find the Tiny Tot getting wheeled around Level 2 in something shaped like a race car. Fresh from a meal of Mac & Cheese and French fries. About to consume more than half of my Jamba Juice -- a fresh mix of kale, lemon and ginger.
FINE. I LOVE THE MALL OF AMERICA, OKAY?
Her shirt was covered in Jello colored splotches and her grandparents had sprung for the souvenir photo at the Aquarium. She was all Zs by Forest Lake, tucked into a blanket and surrounded by some of her favorite stuffed creatures, a water bottle between her knees. I had car-comfort envy.
8. Back home by 10:30 p.m., where we limped around and tried to remember how many days it had been since I ran that 5K and ate that dog food.
9. Whenever I have a day like this I secretly refer to it as Being A Participant in The World. I spend a lot of time not participating in anything except Target. This was a run, family, friends, a toddler sticky with Mall germs. Participating in The World.