A Yummy Run

I was out on my run this morning and was feeling pretty good about it.  I was only going about 2.5 miles so I knew it was going to be fast.  Plus, the sun was shining, it was warm and I was hungry.  I’m not using “hungry” in the figurative sense, but in the literal.  I was hungry for food.  Not I’m hungry for a good run.

One thing I like to do is work out when I’m hungry.  I know I’m not tapping into secret fat reserves or anything like that.  I  just feel lighter on my feet and I feel like I can breathe easier.  Sometimes when I run, I get a feeling that I’m going to puke.  I have to keep forcing myself to burp and it eventually goes away.  If my stomach contained even a little bit of food, I fear that I would be yacking it out all over the sidewalk.  I never know when the potential puke fest may happen so I choose not to eat before I work out.

I was about a mile into my run and I heard someone coming up behind me on a bike.  I thought it was odd since I was going against traffic, but whatever floats their boat, I thought.  I glanced over to see this lady run past me.  I didn’t care that she was passing me – I have said it before, I am not a fast runner, but what irritated me was that she didn’t even crack a smile in my direction.  (You can read how I feel about this here.)  Seriously, lady, you are close enough for me to reach out and punch you, the least you can do is acknowledge me.  And for the record, she wasn’t going that  fast.  I could have chased after her, but she turned the corner.  I’m assuming she used all of her energy to pass me and then had to collapse in exhaustion and this was her only escape.  The little world I live in is awesome.

I really didn’t get too worked up about the rude runner because almost immediately after this incident, all I could smell was bacon.  If I am running through a neighborhood, I almost always come across a house that smells like food.  And honestly, 9 times out of 10, it smells like bacon.  I also always run in the morning so people are frying up delicious pork belly and the aroma wafts outside.

Maybe it was because it was Sunday morning and I think people are more likely to eat a breakfast including bacon on a weekend versus a weekday, but the smell of bacon led me all the way home.  Some areas were a little stronger than other, but there was a definite bacon bouquet in the air for over a mile.

This is where my hunger plays against me.  My mouth was watering, I was almost drowning in my own saliva.  But what really sucked, was that I knew when I got home, our own house was going to smell like bacon because right before I left, I made Kamryn eggs and bacon and I gave her the last two slices.

What's a post about bacon without at least one Kevin Bacon reference?

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