Friday rolled around and I had no plans. For a gal that had been working 16-hour days for the last 17 days, and who will be devoting nearly all of her free time to training in the coming months, one would think that she would make plans with her friends. I suppose, I would have made plans with friends had any of them been available.
Borko and I had made tentative plans to run after work Friday afternoon, but he too made last minute travel plans. My running buddy having bailed on me for Bethlehem, I found myself texting anyone who may still be in New York hoping that someone was free for a beer, giving me freedom to skip the hill repeat workout I was to do that day.
My would be brother (would be if we came from the same parents, but otherwise look and act a lot alike) Scotty came to my rescue and met me on Park Avenue for a walk until we found a suitable place for drinks. While I had a $3 beer in mind, he was thinking of $13 martinis and we found ourselves at Park Avenue Autumn. I said something to Scotty that made him feel fat. He did not finish his martini as he had a sudden interest in the gym. I finished his martini and mine and then we left.
Home alone at 7:30 on a Friday night, I was feeling like a stir crazy loser, and the guilt of skipping my workout was haunting me. Tipsy, I pulled on my running tights, braided my golden locks and strapped on my sneakers and ran out of my apartment.
As I raced up Cat Hill over and over again in the dark, accompanied by my good friends Jay-Z and Alicia Keys all I kept thinking was, "I wonder if anyone has ever put a martini shaker in her Special Needs bag." I had the best run, the fastest run I have had in a long time on Friday night. I am thinking that a dirty martini at mile 13 of the marathon at IMS may be just what I need to power through to the finish line.
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