What. A. Day.

No big surprise (at least in my brain) that after all her stressing about loss of muscle tone or stamina due to her "protracted" recovery, crevette ended up kicking my ass on the trail this morning.

Okay...maybe I exaggerate a tad. However, I *was* unable to complete the requisite fourteen miles today. I made it to the last overpass, and was suddenly confronted with the reality of my *own* overstressed and abused muscles still healing from the beating they took in San Diego.

It was actually sort of surreal. Properly hydrated. Bloodsugar levels the best they've been to date. Not even remotely overheated.

I just stood at the base of that overpass and *knew* there was no way in hell I could pull it off -- that if I tried, *really* bad things were going to happen.

So I stopped. crevette finished, grabbed the car (we'd ridden down together) and came back and got me.

Thirteen and three quarter miles is the distance I'm claiming. Not really anything to be ashamed of -- just a small bit of "well, fuck" in the way of wishing I'd been able to finish.

The good thing is that Crev not only finished -- she felt energized at the end, like she could have gone at least another couple of miles.

I suspect next week she'll get to prove that theory.

Rest of the day is kind of a blur. I came home and immediately got to shower and put on my metaphorical ass kicking boots. Appears the "sales office" had planned yet ANOTHER open house to try and move these overpriced apartments they're trying to pass off as luxury condos.

One of the things they think will add to the ambience is live music by the pool. That same pool that Robin's and my bedrooms back up to.

Now granted, there's a certain amount of noise you expect to put up with on a Saturday afternoon at poolside in the summer. Live, LOUD, Calypso music is not part of it.

So I complained. And was gratified that I apparently wasn't the first. I *am* apparently the scariest, though, because I got them to turn the music down and *strongly* suggested that next time they do something like this, they consider relocating the musicians to at the very least the far side of the pool.

*snerk* Oh, and the musician tried to get cute with me when the sales lady told him that he needed to turn it down. Told me that I should just appreciate the free concert.

I told him that if he was any sort of real artist, he would want an audience that chose freely to listen to him -- not one that was being held hostage to his music.

Fortunately I didn't have to test the new sound levels, because crevette got me into the YMCA for an hour or so in the hot tub.

*bliss* Every so often it's nice just to take all the pressure and impact off the muscles and joints.

Then tonight I retrieved beeber2 from the airport and got her home. She rewarded me with Starbucks, because she is a good friend who pays attention to her friends various and sundry addictions. I do wish we could have hung out longer, but one lesson I carry away from today is that I'm still recovering from last weekend, and if I'm going to be any good at all in Baltimore next weekend, I need to give myself *more* rest and *more* recovery.

You'd think it wouldn't be so hard to do.