Spent an excellent weekend in Phoenix with friends. Chi and the Tall Guy came through with their usual shenanigans, including dozens of stories involving my brother and vomit. The best of these was a tale that ended with Adam shaking Aaron up and down by the ankles while holding him over the toilet, trying to find out if the goldfish that Aaron had just swallowed was still alive. Beth bravely made it through this dinner and immediately afterwards whisked me off to a holiday party with many people from Intel and much alcohol. Any party that finds Beth fully clothed in a hot-tub and Chris (Beth’s friend) roaming around the living room in a towel without anyone so much as turning their head has to be considered a success.
Chris is also training for a marathon, and despite battering his liver last night was planning to run fifteen miles today. Hearing him talk about eighty mile weeks and his long runs made me feel like a slacker, so I hit the gym with more determination than normal tonight. I managed twelve miles, which is good for me at this point. The weigh-in before I ran was 154, and after running I was at 149. The math says that had I run a full marathon (twenty-six miles) I would have dropped eleven pounds, but somehow I think there must be something I’m missing in that equation.