One Day in Heaven

20.5 miles. That's how far I ran last night...my furthest distance yet in training for the WPB marathon.

Although my training has been going well, last night was rough. Right at mile 3 I got sick, spending about 15 minutes in the bathroom. And during the run I had to stop 3 times for food (once at McDonalds for some fries because I needed the salt) and 2 more times to handle the increasing number of blisters I was getting. Then at mile 18, I started feeling sick again, but pushed through and made it the rest of the way. The run took me 4 1/2 hours. I sure hope I can improve my time before the marathon or I'm going to miss my flight back to California on the same day.

Earlier in the week I had done one 10 mile run and six 1/4 mile sprints. Both went extremely well. During the run I kept a really fast pace (for me anyway) of 9:30 the whole way. And on the sprints I blew away my previous times by going well under 2 minutes per 1/4 mile sprint. Times were 1:44, 1:49, 1:53, 1:57, 1:53, 1:51. Considering the last time I had done sprints my times were all over 2 minutes I feel I had a big improvement. The two factors I think that came into play were: 1. nutrition. I've been really good lately and 2. rest. I took 2 weeks off to let my ankle recover and haven't been back at the local crossfit for fear of hurting my hip again. (I think I'm going to wait until I get back to Cali before I start it up again)

So why did I feel so bad last night? Well, I think it was the alcohol. I was really bad this weekend and overdid it again. It all started on Friday....my day in heaven.

As I've mentioned before I'm working on a beauty magazine in South Florida where I'm looking at mostly naked beautiful women all day. But Friday was different. The publishers decided to put the "New Man" section in the magazine again--something they haven't done since issue number one over five years ago. And lucky me, I was selected to produce it. That was the most fun ever....searching for hot guys to feature, a sample of which is illustrated in the above slide show.

But the day got better. That night, my friend Alex had his 24th birthday party and a bunch of us went out to celebrate with him. It was wild. Really wild. We went to 4 clubs that night, 2 for drinking and 2 for dancing. Because the dance floors were so packed, dancing was dirty. But all in fun. Alex must have made out with a half dozen girls that night, most of which he worked with! And no, I wasn't one of them.... But I did have my own fun.

Around midnight I spotted a guy I had seen before at another local bar. I remembered him as being one of the most sexy men I had ever seen in my life. But I thought he was gay because he only hung out with guys and didn't look around at women. Having the assistance of a few drinks consumed I could now approach him. Grabbing his arm, I asked if he would dance with me. He was leaving to go next door. I asked, "What if I went there too, would you then?" In a very sexy voice he responded, "but of course."

OK, so my heart melted. Quickly I worked to get my friends to go migrate to the other place and then I helped to get a ride home for Alex who was about to pass out. When I went in to the club Deluxe I found the guy. His name happened to be Alex too. Being quite bold now, the first question I asked was "Are you gay?" And I explained my reason. He actually remembered me from that night. Apparently I must have been drooling. He was quite calm about the whole thing. He told me that when I saw him before he had a girlfriend, but now he didn't. Of course I bought it. This was like me talking to Brad Pitt. Words just kind go in one ear and out the other. The visual aspect was just too mesmerizing.

I don't know how I did it, but somehow I managed to remain my witty self and later he said he liked me because "I made him laugh." The reasons I liked him were obvious. He was a cross between Mr. Sexy and Mr. Hot in the slideshow, 32 years old, about 6 feet tall, dark hair closely cut, was in the marines, has tattoos and tan skin, and he races motorcycles. At that moment in time, nothing else seemed to matter. We danced, we drank some more and talked about all kinds of things. Somehow I ended up agreeing that if we got married I would work, make all the money and he would cook, clean, take care of the kids and work on his hobby building racing motorcycles. Huh? At the time it made perfect sense. See what an alcoholic trance can do. The rest of the story you can guess.

It's a good thing I'm back to reality. It was a surreal evening, not meant to last, but memorable nonetheless. The lessons learned were 1. moderation on the alcohol and 2. if you are not sure, use plan b.

Saturday night was another story altogether. One I'll save for another day.