Immediately following the Half Marathon, it was time to eat and eat huge. I guesstimated that I had burned about 2500-2600 calories during the course of the race ( yet my HRM crapped about about half way through) so I was ready to EAT.
We chose pizza, because well, it sounded good. And when I say 'we' I mean me. Others who did not do 13.1 didn't get to choose. nu uh.
So we hit a pizza buffet, I ate until I was comfortably full and that was that. My dear sweet man decided this was the perfect time to go buy out tile samples.
Are you freaking kidding me?
Nope, he wasn't at all. So in we went to Lowe's, me, still in my sweat caked clothes, my salty legs, horrible hat hair, race bib, and medal wearing to look at tile. I lasted about fifteen minutes of cruising the aisles before I started to drop, again. My hamstring was hurting and I knew I needed to drop really quickly. My husband was dazed by tiles, grout and other shit that seemed so dumb at the time. I finally had to drop after about 20 minutes. I saw a flat bed cart int he aile and ended up taking a seat on it. ohhh, much better. Stretching out my legs and back and relaxing...until the owner of the cart came by. He looked at me like I was insane, for obvious reasons. I apologized and got up, taking way longer than I wanted to. Oh well.
As soon as we got home, my stomach said to me 'pizza after a long hard tough race? Yeah I don't think so' and started evacuating into the nearest toilet. That was cool.
The next day, after still not enough sleep, we hit breakfast and Lowes again to actually buy the tile.
More of the same, wandering the aisles while my husband did math in his head, figured out grout and mortar and blah blah blah....Then it was on to Home Depot. Then back to Lowes. I think I lasted about two hours before dropping again and this time there was no strangers cart to sit on. So I bitched instead. My dear husband got the hint and we went home.
The irony of it is, as hard as all that was? Tuesday came along and I don't feel a thing in terms of pain, or stiffness or tight muscles, nothing! I feel great! ( I mean other than the runners rash covered in baby butt cream that still feels like hell) So again, the rule of 'keep moving when you are sore and hurting' really does ring true, as much as I hate it.
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