After last night's fun with the college roommate and a ridiculously early bedtime, I woke at 6:50 for a local 5K, the Mission City Fun Run.
B, a good friend, was supposed to join me, but she's sick, so that was a bummer. Even so, it was a fun event, and very much the fun-run that was promised.
This morning was a perfect example of why I love racing. There is no way I would have been up and running hard by 8 AM without the race to motivate me. Instead, I did a respectable 27 minute (on the dot) 5K, which was a pleasant surprise since I was running without my Garmin and last weekend's 10K with my sister had been almost a minute per mile slower.
When I got home, I attacked the garden for hours and did Mandarin lessons on my MP3 players. There's tons more to do in the garden in the next two weeks, but it felt great to get 2 beds and 6 varieties of tomatoes finished. Plus, I caught up with R while finishing gardening and heading out for a nice walk.
E and I had a wonderful brunch downtown and watched the world walk by for the festival that had shut down traffic. We hit up the hardware store and bought necessary bits for the garden.
The menu for the week is planned and I'm reading for fun to hide from the afternoon heat (it hit 91F in the eaves today!).
I was feeling pretty good about my productive day -- So many tasks accomplished and it's only 4:30. Then I realized I'd done half of those tasks in public with my shirt on inside out and a large tag hanging from my waist. E, of course, was surprised when I asked how he didn't notice and clue me in at brunch, at the hardware store, or while chatting with the neighbors. So, on this perfectly relaxing Sunday at home, I'm reminded that E & I are made for each other.
Also, I'm reading 867-5309 -- Jenny, the song that saved me (note to self, I should really sign up for Amazon's referral program). The best bit I've encountered by far?
New Orleans, just like I pictured it. America's Alcoholic Disneyland, where the normally straight-laced Protestants of the Midwest and the South funneled on down the Missouri, Ohio, and Mississippi rivers to become momentary Catholic-Voodoo worshippers at the fire-fountain altar of the Big Easy.
So much description, history, hints of cultural depth and movement in a single passage. Of course he wrote songs that topped charts!