Sunday: Day off
Frustrating end to the week both from a running and social point of view. This cold got the better of me and I took it very easy to try and get myself right for Monday morning as I'm finally beginning the exercise testing phase of my research and don't want to fuck it up. The reason why I may not be the drunken idiot is that Ireland did the grand slam in the most epic of circumstances on Saturday evening not long after Spurs had done the Chelsea scum. These type of sporting occurrences are beyond rare, and the one place I'd want to witness them is the high stool in fitzers. Alas, I gave in to reason and stayed in, passing up one of the best party night Fitzers has seen in a while. While it was nice to soak in the memory of that last ridiculously crazy 5 minutes of rugby at home, I hate not celebrating sporting events that live in the memory. Have I grown up??? Not according to RealAge.com, who put me at an immature 23.2 years of age. The college dream lives on.....
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