Yoo 298 - Oreo Legs and Cinnamon Rolls

Wednesday "date night" was a fun little two month spree.

Oh what an adventurous mid-week reprieve that used to be!

But then I registered for an Ironman (could this post get any linky-er, you ask?) and the Gregbeau got all these grand ideas about doing a sprint triathlon and so Wednesday nights are now reserved for "swim training".

Isn't this exciting?

Once a Wednesday we suit up and join the locals at a pool downtown, usually fighting for an open lane. It's mostly older men taking up the non-swim-team-practice lanes, so you'd think I'd be able to flash a little leg or something to get my way.

I thought that too.

But then I looked down at my legs and realized that even if they were "shapely" (they're not) they still have the runner/bike nerd tan line right smack dab in the thigh middle.

It's hard to bring sexy back when you look like half an Oreo.

Actually, if you count my sock tan line, you could say I'm a double-stuffed Uh-oh! Oreo.

Now I sound cool...

Where was I going with this?

I don't know. But I swam 2 miles (and 80 yards...) tonight. Partially drill. Entirely in a lane with the Gregfish. (and, just for the record, sharing a lane with him counts as open-water triathlon practice...). It took me a little over an hour and I didn't feel tired so my confidence level on the swim portion is still high.

The bike though...well, lets just cue the bomb dropping sound effect and say I was walking funny after another hilly ride yesterday.

Is this terribly boring you to death? Yes? Ok, in an effort to salvage this post, I didn't find $5 but, on the post-swim Schlotzsky's run, we got a free cinnamon roll.

 All because we couldn't make up our minds, too!

We eyed them, drooling and aimlessly debating aloud, while they made our sandwiches. Then we wandered to our table with those sandwiches while little thought bubbles of cinnamon rolls floated above our heads. And then as we sat there, happily devouring those deliciously over-priced creations, the cinnamon roll thought bubbles kept giving us away like blinking neon signs. So much so that the cashier lady swung by and asked if we were surely sure that we didn't want a cinnamon roll.

She was very convincing but I instinctively gave the Gregchild "the eye" and he gave the cashier a dejected "no".

And then there was this long, but happened in an instant, debate between my left shoulder devil ("indulge!") and my right shoulder angel ("huge thighs!") in which I caved hard for the left dude and in turn set the Gregdude chasing after the cashier.

But! We were too late! They'd already closed the cash registers.

(cue the Gregactor's kicked puppy dog face).

And just like that, they just gave us one. A fresh and goey and warm (just like that shoulder devil said it would be) cinnamon roll.

And now you know.

How's that for a Wednesday night?? Yeah, I think I miss our real dates too...

Have a great day :-)