Up all night...

I couldn't run yesterday. Chris is leaving for six months in the UK/Oman so I arranged to throw him a blowout goodbye dinner party. My contribution was way too much (but not too much for Teagan and I) butternut squash (about 3 or 4 quarts?) and two apricot/shallot-stuffed pork tenderloins. Klara and Andre brought some of their never-ending sourdough batch, a chivey and goat cheesy spread on melba, and an expensive box of wine (no joke!); Teagan made a fantastic salad and peach buttermilk dumplings for dessert. Tasty all around. I'd arranged to have everything in the oven, or ready to go in by 5.30 and was going to head out for my 10 miler, but Chris got caught up at the Penn Museum so I had to stay to watch the oven. It was perfectly reasonable, not his fault at all, and he was very considerate in letting me know bad he felt. But dammit, I was itching to run! I tried not to let my inner hissy fit ruin my mood, but sometimes it's hard not to be bitchy sheep...

After dinner I was up until 4am writing, not particularly well. All nighters, and even near all nighters, are for the birds. Was grateful for Allegri's beautiful Miserere in my ears as I burned the midnight oil.

This morning: 4mi up to Boathouse Row and back. Will try for the long one tonight.