So, Mullens decided it's his duty to kick my ass back into shape. I assumed (wrongly, as it turns out) that I could keep up with him during any kind of running or cardio stuff. After all, he's a fatty fat fatty, and I've been doing this for more than a year.
So, we went running. Mullens estimates that he ran about a 6.5 minute mile, and if I would have completed the whole thing, I would have run it in just over 7. It's a pretty decent time, but I felt like I was going to die. I have asthma which doesn't really bother me, unless I'm exercising or on really cold or really humid days. Well, yesterday was really humid. I kept up for almost the first half, but had to stop and catch my breath for a few seconds in the middle of the run. My legs are never what makes me stop. It's these cursed lungs.
Anyway, the ultra fast and ultra sweaty mile run made it easier to justify eating 4 slices of pizza and drinking 3 beers last night at Hoops with Alan, Mullens, Anna, Dayv, and a few others who were there in spirit.