The Sausalito Debacle

Yesterday, I jogged/walked/shuffled/at one point just gave up and sprawled out flat on my back on the ground through Sausalito. Sausalito is incredibly beautiful, but hot damn if that place isn't one fucking hill after another! I'll spare you the gory details, but it wasn't a good run for me. I doubt it was very pretty for anyone who witnessed any of it, either.

In my defense, I hadn't planned on going running. I had sent a text to my running buddy to see if he wanted to run, and when I didn't hear back from him within .03 seconds, I figured I was in the clear. So, I ate lunch. Enough lunch for 6 people. And had some beer. And then the MF'er confirms that he does, indeed, want to run. In 30 minutes.

In hindsight, I should've said no. But instead, I was all, "Better make it 45, cause I gotta finish my beer first!" I'm a moron.

We decided on Sausalito. Actually, I think I pushed for Sausalito because I knew the drive over there would buy me some time.
What I said: "We can run along the waterfront! It'll be so beautiful...the sun will be shining, the birds will be chirping, there will be double rainbows and unicorns around every corner. We should totally drive over there!"
What I meant: "If you don't give me the 25 minutes rest it will take us to drive over there (oh God, please let there be traffic) I guarantee I will puke all over you before the 1st mile mark."

I am an excellent negotiator. We headed to Sausalito.

So, we hopped in Einstein, and while he chatted on about whatever he had done over the past few days since I had seen him last, I sat silently in the passenger seat, begging and pleading with my digestive system to hurry the fuck up, and also kindly requesting my body to overlook the fact that I hadn't had a sip of anything non-alcoholic in about 3 days.

I am ALWAYS a slow runner, but man oh man did I ever take slowness to a new level. I did manage not to puke, but only because at one point, while running up a never ending staircase, I stopped, layed (laid? I'll never get that right) down on one of the steps, and declared that this running nonsense could get fucked, from now on my hobby of choice would be napping in the sun.

I did, eventually, make it back to the car. I was a sweaty, red-faced, rapid heart beating, partly bent over, gasping for breath mess. My running buddy was all, "Hey! Great warm up! You ready to run now?"

I am an excellent negotiator. We walked to the nearest bar.