Headcold and Non-Running Running commentary

Oof. I got slammed into by a nasty head cold this past weekend. Normally I think “Rub some dirt it in and get back in there” but this time my body said “no way, Jose”. I stayed home and slept Friday and Saturday. Saturday night I went out for a few hours because I had committed to a dinner months ago and really wanted to help celebrate my friend’s upcoming marriage. Sunday I was back to feeling icky again and Monday I woke up and sounded like I’d been smoking a pack a day for a thousand years and walking downstairs to make oatmeal was too much effort so I called my boss and we agreed I should work from home. Yesterday I was back in the office but it was exhausting and thanks to my cold and my body’s insistence that I lay down for 4 days, my apartment was one more mostly empty soup bowl away from an episode of horders. Tonight I went to another Red Sox game (let’s just not even talk about it yet. It was not a good night for the boys of Fenway). This is all to say I have not gone running since Thursday. I will be going tomorrow and I’m hoping to mostly pick up where I left off. Until then, here’s a running commentary of the night because my stupid phone battery is awful and can’t stay charged to save it’s life and I couldn’t #LiveTweetThatBitch

I now present to you what it’s like to go to a Sox game with my BFF

Pre PS: Don’t hate me for using BiFFLe. It’s late and I’m home alone and it’s cracking me up to call her that. ❤ to you KP.

We find our seats. We made it in the top of the 1st inning. A new best for me for the year. Turns out it was because an entire ice age came and went during the 1st inning. My favorite current player, big Shane Victorio steps to the plate and I try to woo. Because of my cold, I can’t woo. This makes me sad. Also makes us think of the Woo girls episode of HIMYM and the sad fact that yes, we are woo girls. And by sad I mean awesome. Because when is wooing not awesome! Also, BiFFLe said it sounded like when the woo girls were sad woo girls and that was even more of a bummer.

2 outs, top of the 2nd. When we CHANGED PITCHERS. Webster went 1 and 2/3 innings and gave up a bazillion runs. Lame.
Me: “Um. It’s 8:10 It’s just now the 2nd inning. We’re never leaving”
BiFFLe: “I think I’ll have to just drive back to work after the game”
Me: “This was going to be a 2 beer night”
BiFFLe: “I think it might be a 3”
Me: “Yup”

Middle of the 2nd – 8:16ish
Me: “Ok. We’ll go for a beer after the Sox bat, or 8:45, whichever is first”
BiFFLe::side-eye::
Me: “Ok. We’ll go for a beer after the Sox bat, or 8:35, whichever is first”
BiFFLe: “Deal”

We I used the ladies, then we got dinner and went for the beer. After April’s promotion of $5 beers the prices went back to normal. Domestic Draft (Bud Light):$8.50. Premium Draft (Blue Moon): $8.75. We were shocked. For a quarter WHO’S DRINKING BUD LIGHT. The pourer at the Blue Moon stand agreed. (I don’t know. Is there a name for this person? Is there a beer sommelier?) (PS I spelled sommelier right on the first try ::drops mic::)

::catches mic:: a la John Krazinski on J-Fal this week (Google/Hulu it)

We were gone for all of 10 minutes and missed the whole third inning. At this point the innings started to blur together. The Twins kept hitting the ball (they did it 19 times) and the Sox kept whiffing. Or stranding runners. Or getting thrown out at first. This became my chant: “Stop letting them hit the ball”

I do know the 4th and 5th went by quick enough. But I think that was mostly because I was focused on not dropping pizza. Also, baby pictures on facebook. What? KP and I haven’t seen each other in a month. We have a lot of catching up to do!

In the 6th, we’re ready for our final beer. Ok. I was ready. KP wasn’t. So I enabled her by telling her “I’m done, drink faster”. We ran down and I ran to the bathroom (I’m trying to drink a ton of water to get the rest of this virus out) and I thought, Well. We’re down by a lot. But it’s the 7th. There’s still time Yes, Jennie, “we”. The Sox aren’t the Sox without the fans. I came of the bathroom and there was already a beer waiting for me. Because my bestest friend is THE bestest. I think we were gone for 7 minutes max. That was the fastest that’s ever happened.

We got back up and in the middle of the 7th I looked around and was wondering why we weren’t signing Take me Out to the Ballgame. It’s because it was the middle of the 6th inning. It’s hard to keep track from the bleachers. Also when the Twins are kicking the Sox all over the field. I’m pretty sure it’s as hard as being a gangsta.

Middle 8 we sang Sweet Caroline. By then so many people had left, we were surrounded by empty seats so I didn’t have hundreds of voices bombarding me. I could actually hear the sound of the crowd bouncing off Fenway. It was odd.

Somewhere in all of this Ellsbury made a weird catch off the Green Monster that I’m hoping someone can explain to me tomorrow. Was it a fly out or a hit??? We don’t know! This is when I continued to yell “Stop letting them hit the ball” and added clapping to punctuate.

The biggest cheer other than the brief glimmer of hope in the bottom of the 1st was finding out the Bruins won. (Go B’s!)

At some point Johnny Gomes was up and KP wanted him to hit a homer to us, right into our beer. Like that Mariners fan. Didn’t happen. Sad.

I do know in the 9th, I yelled “Don’t swing at bad pitches. That’s how you play baseball” And decided I could be a coach with that kind of wisdom tonight. And then I begged the Sox for one more run. It wouldn’t been a win, but at least it would be worth it to be still sitting there in the bottom of the 9th in the start of a rain storm after a crappy game. No dice. At least we got a nice night of weather at Fenway. And beers with a bestie are never a bad way to spend a night. We walked to Kenmore and went our separate ways on the Green line.
At this point my phone was dead, so all I could do was wait. And wait. And wait. Anyone who lives anywhere on the green line knows that the train you want never comes. I looked at the clock: 11:10. It was so late. I just wanted to go home. And so I waited. And waited. And I couldn’t believe I was still waiting. I figured it was at least 15 minutes. I checked the clock 11:17. Seven minutes had passed. Seven. All sense of time is distorted with no iPhone to distract. Finally the B line showed up and I pumped my fist with joy. The woman next to me said “Exactly”
Once on the B line many things ran through my head, I wish I could have written them down. But I was getting tired and there was some commotion and I can’t remember any except when I rested my head on my hand: My hand smells like beer

Finally in the car and driving home I saw a flash of lightening and yelled “Lighteniiiiiing” Though thunder and lightening can happen in a snow storm it’s rare. So to me lightening means spring is here and summer’s coming. And that means the beach! And hopefully those boys of summer working over at Fenway can get their bullpen in order and start playing like April again. If not, it’s going to be a looooooong baseball season.
Hearts and sleepytime!

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