This New Year’s Day was unlike any other. We woke up by 5:30 a.m. We loaded the children in the minivan. We plopped them into their sleeping grandparents’ bed. And we drove to Sam Houston Race Park for a 5K.
It was a bitter (for Houston) 32 degrees. Even deciding what to wear was a struggle. I own very few winter clothes, let alone winter workout gear. I had Amazon-Primed some long running tights. And I wore yoga pants underneath. Sajan loaned me a soft furry hoodie. Even with all the layers, we cursed the cold as we waited for the race countdown. I admired and jealously hated the smart people who had come adorned in warm animal onesies covering their whole bodies in an insulating layer.
As soon as we started running, though, the feeling of cold subsided.
My thighs started talking to me. They told me they enjoyed running, but not for so many minutes in a row. So I ran for a while, then did a series of walk-jog intervals. That is a fancy way of saying I was not in it to win it.
There was a good crowd, though considerably less due to the frosty temps. Even with that, I felt a little claustrophobic being surrounded by people. I argued with myself here and there, debating whether to run to the next cone or stretch my run a little farther, and then stubbornly yelled at myself that I could do whatever I wanted and I could stop to walk a little sooner if I wanted to.
Toward the end, I accepted a little cup of lemon-lime Gatorade that was mostly ice. While others slurped and threw their cup in the grass, I daintily sipped mine and even crossed the finish line with it in my hand.
Sajan and I snacked on peanut butter and banana after the race.
Then we stumbled upon Dish Society, a happenin’ brunch spot on Memorial Drive with locally grown food and a hipster vibe.
Sajan ate an egg white dish, and I succumbed to shrimp and grits. Grits are a good carb, right???
The food was delicious.
And, as discerning eyes may detect below, my meal came with a subliminal message!