Distance: 2.5 miles
Pace: Let's not go there.
Heart rate: I don't know. I gave my heart rate monitor a rest after it chafed a big piece of skin off me last run.
Wine consumption: somewhere between 2 and 10 non-wine drinks.
Bourbon Street in all its glory.
As a wine lover, I rarely venture into mixed drinks. But when in Rome (or New Orleans), right? Those sweet drinks with the cutesy names were a mistake. Saturday morning hit me with a wave of nausea and a pounding head. Most people would shrink back into bed. I knew a run is the best thing to counteract overindulgence. The hardest part is getting out the door, but if you do, relief will happen. For motivation, I begged husband #1 to come with me. Luckily, he agreed!
Mr. and Mrs. Toe Shoes run by Jackson Square.
Husband #1 is not a runner, so we took it slow (11:18/mile, to be precise). This was a good pace because it was approximately 3000% humidity and the French Quarter at daybreak is cramped and not lovely. Also, the pervasive smell of damp vomit did not help my nausea. I'm sure there are wonderful running routes in NOLA, but I didn't find them. Hopefully the marathon organizers are more skilled. And hopefully February's average humidity is something more reasonable, like 80%. The run ended on a high note, though, at Cafe Du Monde, where a freshly fried beignet and a cafe au lait finished the healing process the run started.
Carbo loading.
This is certainly not what I would call a training run, but it did save my Saturday. Once I got back to the hotel and showered, I felt good as new. And I'm happy to report that Saturday night was jester-free.
How come there are an odd number of feet in the toe-shoes picture? :)
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