Oops, I did it again

Overdid it, actually. I am completely oblivious regarding the line between enough and too much, in many things. When do I go from hungry to not hungry? When do I go from pushing, to pushed too far? I have no idea when I hit too much, but I certainly overran that line with gusto this weekend!

After Saturday's questionably intelligent, dismal 7-miler, Superman and I went to a friend's house for dinner. Homemade chicken pot pie = yum! So of course, I had two plates full = too much.

After dinner, we went out to karaoke with Goddess and the crew at Michel's. I am a karaoke addict, and will sing at the drop of, well, just about anything. All it took was Neil Cash's suggestion, for me to get up and bogart Alanis Morrisette's Hand in My Pocket from 2 guys who were singing their hearts out. Honestly, the one guy did hand me his mike... My buddy "the Destroyer" (his choice of moniker) collided knees with my sore one, and I continued to dance the night away as if I felt no pain. I didn't keep track of how many drinks I had, but I wasn't feeling my knee, my cold, or the run. I didn't puke, swirl, or get a hangover. I didn't have to ride home with one eye closed (Superman drove). It was a lot, but at least here I didn't cross the line into too much.

Me singing, this past August

As usual, we stopped at Taco Bell on the way home. I certainly did not need two chalupas and a taco. That definitely = too much!

I had a bit of trouble getting out of bed Sunday, not because I drank too much, but because my legs were stiff and sore. I felt every one of the 7 miles, as well as the dancing. Superman must have been feeling a bit off as well. He slammed his toe on the way upstairs from switching a load of laundry. He says it's jammed, but I really think he fractured something. We had a bit of coffee and some breakfast (because I needed breakfast after that late night Taco Bell run. Too much!). Then we headed back to my place.

Big Brother had a cyclocross race literally right up the street from my house. Two miles up the street. Superman and I decided to walk. I took the 50 degrees, windy weather into consideration for the walk, but not for standing around watching crazy men ride around in the wet grass and mud for an hour! My brother rides A level Masters, so they circled that course 7 times. I am certain I would have been done after one lap! Guess that's why he's got thighs like Dean Karnazes.

Big Brother finishing ? of 7 laps. Check the thighs!

Superman surprised me with a pumpkin spice latte to warm me up, and we walked back to my place. We were probably a mile and a half  before I finally loosened up to walk at a normal pace. We got home around 4pm, Superman went back to his place, and I sat down to write this week's paper. By 6pm I was distracted with email. By 7pm, I was ready for bed! I actually did go to bed before 7:30, thinking I could work on the paper at the inevitably early hour I would be up. I was awake at 3am, up at 4am, and back in bed by 5am. At 8:30am I called my parents and told them I would come work on the house tomorrow. I could barely walk.

I can still barely walk. I've stretched. I've used my foam roller. I've hobbled down to the drug store and back (about a mile, round trip). I'm working on this paper (almost done and due tonight), and making myself get up to move around every little while so I don't stiffen up even more. I did NOT get a run in (even the mile I had in mind). The walk was difficult enough! Never, anywhere in the entire weekend, did I think I was crossing the line. I knew I was pushing in places, but I did not think I was going overboard. Will I ever learn?

Do you consistently cross the line? How do you reign yourself in, or judge when you're pushing too hard?