It's my own kind of impressive

I've been busy. Wouldn't you know my highest mileage week AND doing 2 inventories would occur in the same week? Oh, and it got hot again. And....being an extrovert makes it really hard to say no to social activities.

So, like, here is the running situation:

Which isn't all that impressive to people that run 70 mile weeks or ultramarathons and stuff. But I top out in the high 30s, so it's my own kind of impressive.

And here's how I crammed running and other stuff into the last 7 days:

I went to work on August 1st (Friday), went to my brother-in-law's birthday dinner, stayed out until 11pm chatting with friends:

I went to work on August 2nd (Saturday), prepped for inventory, and hit the Greenway for 7.1 miles after work.

I went to work on August 3rd (Sunday) at 6am at a store 45 minutes away. Have I mentioned I don't do mornings? By the time I got home and laid on the sofa for 20 minutes, I decided I needed to run before the rest of the day got away from me. But it was 95 degrees outside without factoring in the humidity. So I begrudgingly ran on the treadmill.

I went to work on August 4th (Monday), prepped for inventory, and hit the Greenway for 4.2 miles after work. I got some cool runner mail:

And ate my weight in meat at Arby's:

I went to work on August 5th (Tuesday) at 6am at my store for inventory. I texted my bestie at 5:15am, who happens to work with me, to make sure she was awake:

After a short-but-long day of counting all the merchandise, I went home and laid on the sofa. Then I met up friends for way too much beer, way too many nachos, and way too much laughter.

I did not go to work on August 6th. I slept in, met my buddy for a run, and slogged through 5 miles. I putzed around in the garden for a bit:

Then I finally vacuumed my damn house. I swear it had been 4 weeks since a cleaning product touched the floor. After 3 hours of inhaling Pine Sol and bleach, I sat down to write some articles for my freelance gig. Oops, I worked.

I went to work on August 7th. Then I went over to my friend's house to help her do some unpacking and a tiny bit of box schlepping when it started pouring rain.

I went on the crappiest of crappy 21 mile runs on August 8th at 6:30am. Have I mentioned I don't do mornings? It was so humid that my early start time didn't do much help. And I was tired. Sleepy tired, body tired, running tired, work tired, and burning-the-candle-at-both-ends tired.

I kept waiting for the run to get better, but it was just plain awful.

Then, if my confidence wasn't shot enough, my left foot started throbbing as I walked back to my car. I sat in the ice bath, iced my foot, and ate cold pizza. Adam indulged me in 2 chick flicks (The Wedding Date and In Her Shoes) over the course of a rainy afternoon and eventually we started moving again.

I limped to Turner Field to meet up with friends at a Braves game. Although we had to sit through a rain delay, they finally won after a terrible road trip. Besides, Adam and I were in our happy places.

I was drinking beer:

 He was keeping score:

We both enjoyed the view:

And we are so ready to taper: