Rantopolis

Weekend themes: chocolate, running, fabric

Earlier today, I saw a frightening number on the scale.  Blame it on a detour to Kilwin’s Fudge in Chicago’s Old Town Friday night.  (Really blame it on my friend Maria who spotted the new store as we came out of a sushi restaurant.  You don’t want to know the names I called her prior to succumbing to the gravitational pull of the store.)

First we were assaulted by the candy counter.  Rich, enrobed chocolates, pieces of English toffee….just tray after tray of delicious little morsels just screaming to join their predecessors already positioned on my hips and thighs.

We muscled our way through that section and down the stairs to the ice cream counter.

She had enough self control to order one scoop of ice cream, but oh, no …not me.  I went in for the double scoop of chocolate peanut butter.  The only thing that was missing was the insulin syringe.  (Trust me.  I asked. They thought I was being funny. Not.)

This whole excursion was followed by me trying to install her new DVR box.  (Maria, you may recall from an earlier post has the tech knowledge of a gecko.)

I managed to get everything working except for the remote.  (We get the green screen of death, when trying to turn the TV/cable box on via remote.)  Right now she has to manually plug and unplug the TV and cable box into the wall socket.  It’s currently the un-remote, remote.  All will be fixed later in the week when the cable company tech makes a house call.  (Which, no doubt, I will be called upon to supervise.)

What did you expect from me?  I was in the throws of a sugar rush.  I did the best I could.

Okay, so fast forward to today.

I’m sitting here all sweaty right now.  I forced myself to go for a 45 minute run along Chicago’s lakefront.  It’s Sunday.  It’s summer.  And I’m out of excuses.

The good part is, I did it.  The bad part is that several people passed me.  They were walking. (That one guy who was about as tall as a Sequoia probably could have passed me if I were driving 40 miles an hour, so I’m not counting him.)  But just in general, I’m pretty sure running means that you should actually be moving faster than pedestrians.

Apparently my speed is just one more thing I need to work on.

Beachy shirt

But there were a few people that I actually did pass.  Like the guy who was wearing a flowered shirt with palm fronds who was sauntering along.  (I actually stopped for about 10 seconds to take a photo of him, because his shirt pattern was very closely resembles the sofa cushions at my Florida condo.)

Beachy couch

Apparently he and I are both suckers for palm fronds on a red background.

I actually think if he sat on my couch in that shirt, he would totally blend in.

So there you have it.  Chocolate, running and fabric.

Hope everyone had a great weekend.

Categories: Exercise torture , Fat attack