Notes
got home and Groth was there and had polished off a good 5-6 homebrews. was just about ready to forego all running, but got out the door for 20 minutes. not really sure why. fucker. Groth ran with and just babbled and I was a little concerned everytime we had to go over a curb or around a pothole or turn or basically move forward. "That beer was good". "Yes, but each beer is like 3 fucking shots."
2 separate trips to the liquor store in the night, several changes from beer to liquor and what some people may describe as singing -- for lack of any other description -- at 1 am. Needless to say, I missed my morning run as well.