Those who know me in real life know I can’t tell a story – I never get to the punch line – if it has one.
But writing I can edit – and this is a good one!
Rest Day Hell
I have never liked rest days. Ever. And this just goes to show that they don’t like me either.
As of yesterday, Mr The Rake and I have been together for five years. After his epic hangover and my epic long run hangover, we failed dismally at life and didn’t bother to get each other anything.
On Saturday, we woke up enough to attempt a half-hearted date night. Our favourite Thai restaurant was full, so we headed to the dodgy one down the road.
We felt much better on Sunday, and headed off to a nearby suburb for a friend’s Relay for Life Challenge (raising fund for cancer research).
I probably should have realised it wasn’t my day when we spent twenty minutes looking for a park. Eventually we got there, and spent ten minutes in the sunshine being supportive and buying tickets to things.
Then it was time to head into the city to get pancakes! We were celebrating with a friend of mine who had just finished the Sydney half marathon, and who wanted to celebrate the race, and her birthday.
Sydney has a well-known restaurant called Pancakes on the Rocks – it’s in the Rocks in Sydney, which is absolutely stunning – even with my crap photography skills.
We started off solidly – we made a decision to drive in, and Mr The Rake had figured out a place to park.
Unfortunately, the GPS didn’t know that half the roads were closed due to the Sydney marathon.
Eventually, we ended up on the Harbour Bridge.
Believe me, when you want to be in the city, this is NOT good.
At this point, the relationship was hanging by a thread. We found ourselves in North Sydney, and Mr The Rake offered to throw me out to catch a train.
No – you’re coming too.
We found a park (eventually), and jogged to the station.
By the time we got off and walked to the restaurant, we were only fifteen minutes late. No biggie. I’d told D, and she was in no rush to order.
There was a HUGE queue at the Rocks, but I was prepared for it. I pushed through the crowd like a pro, turned to the guy at the door, and said ‘we’re meeting friends; they’re already here’.
After a lap, we couldn’t see them. Mr The Rake pointed out that there was an extra section downstairs.
We headed down, but still had no luck. I asked the nearest waitress where the table was.
I’m sorry, we have no booking in that name
Clearly she was lying, so I headed outside to call D and figure out where she was.
Turns out, she was sitting at a table inside Pancakes on the Rocks – North Strathfield.
10 minutes from where the Rake and I live.
He left me.
But if he had been able to move, he might have.
Well, anything beats yesterday. But… my Spibelt arrived!
Have you ever been hopelessly lost?
What random thing happened to you this weekend?
Do you celebrate with pancakes?
Runners, did you have a long run, a rest day, or both this weekend?