We didn't run 29 kilometres...

...there was some confusion regarding the route and we ended up running 32 kilometres instead. Bitchin'. Our pace leader announced that we had run 18 miles (what we were supposed to run) when we were at MacDonald and King Edward. I was like "Yay!" and then started to feverishly hope that someone would suggest hopping on the #22. No one did. We ran an extra two miles to get to the store.
Our route was pretty good. We started at the store at 4th and Alma, ran to the Burrard street bridge and then went under it, getting to the seawall. Ran along it to Science World. Ran back up to 16th Avenue and over to Arbutus and then down to Fraser River park which is, ironically, on the Fraser River. Which means like 75th Avenue. And then back to 4th. Easy breezy. I have never had such a delicious Powerbar as the one I wolfed down today. It was like manna from heaven. When we were running through the Kerrisdale area we were like two blocks from my apartment. I kept on thinking of my comfy bed, my cookies, my orange juice, but we pushed forward. Our total run time was 3:22. Yep, over three hours of gritty, grinding bliss. I still can't believe my body did it. Way to go body! Oh, it just flipped me the bird again.
Um, I'm having problems thinking straight. I'm a little tired. I should have a nap. Going out for dinner with Big D tonight. It's my turn to buy sushi which is good, because I think I will eat 64 pieces of it. They can just toss piece after piece in my general direction and I'll try and have it land in my gullet. Maybe I can bark like a seal and clap my hands to indicate my desire for another. Afterwards I am meeting Typewriter for a drink at ye old Caffe Barney, whereupon we will likely continue Friday night's introspective conversation and try to rally one another into believing that we will not die alone with cats eating our faces. It won't happen to me. I don't have cats.
Oh, speaking of eating - my upstairs neighbour has returned. Remember the guy that asked me for dinner three times? And then never sealed the deal and disappeared for a month? I was heading out for a run the other day and he was pulling in and he waved at me. So I waved back, slightly perplexed. Look, if some hot guy (and I'm not saying I'm necessarily hot, maybe luke warm, but definitely warmer than tepid or say, cool) below me had agreed to come over to my place for dinner, I would definitely get on that. Anyways, after my neighbour waves at me I think, "should I wait for him to park and go and say hi?" and then I thought no, he's got my number. He knows where I live. It's just weird. I can't wait to bump into him in the laundry room. I think I will pull up my shirt, rub my tummy and say, "I thought you were going to feed me?".
I have to go pull my laundry out of the dryer in half an hour. It's really painful to go down the stairs. Maybe I'll just slide on my bum or something. Or possibly I will "forget" it until tomorrow, when the lactic acid in my calves has subsided. I'm such a baby.
And such will conclude another brilliant weekend for yours truly.