We watched a movie this weekend. It keeps showing up on Netflix as something we “might like,” and I keep ignoring it. Then, when I was talking to my mom, she mentioned that her and my dad were going to be watching it for the second time that weekend. “Wait, you guys like that movie?” “Oh, it’s ok. Your dad LOVES it, though.” Hmm. Interesting. I inherited my sense of humor from the fellow, so it sounds like it’s time to cave to the pressure of the Netflix recommendation.
It turns out that Scott had already added it to the queue. No matter how it got there, we spent Friday evening watching “Run Fatboy Run.” I’m going to assume that there’s someone else out there who hasn’t seen it and try to summarize without giving too much away:
There’s a guy named Dennis who isn’t exactly getting the most out of life. He’s separated from the love of his life (and mother of his child), has a crummy job, lives in a basement flat, and is completely out of shape. When his love interest finds a new man — successful, handsome, and addicted to marathons — Dennis does what any man in a romantic comedy would do and devises a zany way to win her back. With only three weeks to train, he boasts that he will run a marathon.
What follows is whacky, funny, and occasionally sweet. Hank Azaria is in it, which is enough of an endorsement for me right there. 🙂 The marathon itself is, of course, completely unrealistic. I’m not sure if this was intentional for comedic effect or if they just didn’t bother to do any research. I don’t want to be too specific in case someone wants to watch the movie…but it’s amusing whether they meant it to be or not.
In non-movie news, I actually ran 6 miles this weekend. Well…Nike+ says it was only 5.86, which means they won’t give me credit for the full 6 I scheduled in my training plan. You know what, Nike+? You need to lighten up. First of all, the traditional practice in running is to round up, not truncate. Everyone knows this. Seriously. Secondly, you can’t pretend like you’re that incredibly accurate. Are you communicating with satellites in space? No. You are not. Did you once lead me to believe that I had run 11 miles when I had actually run 12? Yes. Yes you did. Let’s come down off the high horse and admit that 5.86 miles might ACTUALLY have been 6 miles (which it was). Thank you.
Oh, is someone still reading? Sorry about that. What else…I’ve been putting forth a concerted effort at eating better (the Mountain Dew I had with lunch excepted, of course). That means that last night when a sugar craving kicked in, I had nothing unnatural with which to satiate it. Scott must have thought I was going completely bonkers. I found myself standing in front of the open pantry door at least four times last night, willing with all my heart that a peanut butter Twix bar, box of fruit snacks, or Hostess cupcake would suddenly appear. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t, because I had not bought them in the grocery store. I bought fruit instead and I was oh-so-proud of my healthy choices and fortitude.
I ended up settling for some hot chocolate because I found a forgotten pack of it underneath the oatmeal. Well, at least I mixed it with water and didn’t inhale it straight from the package. That’s a good thing…right? Right?