Love me a good food coma.

Thursday and Friday went by in a flash. Like this guy:
On Thursday night, our program director led us to the outskirts of Salamanca to see a performance of Jesucristo Superstar, in Spanish of course. I have a hard time understanding the lyrics (and consequently, the plot) of musicals in English, let alone in Spanish. Fortunately, I have seen it in English before, I know the soundtrack, and well, I know Jesus. So while it was impossible to understand the lyrics, I could still follow.

After the show, we were given 15 euros to go find dinner on our own. Andrea and I have been craving Mexican food like ravenous pregnant women, so we led the charge to the one and only Mexican restaurant we knew of in Salamanca. About seven other students followed, yet we were severely disappointed to find out they were closing just when we arrived. Granted, it was 11:45 pm, but I thought Spaniards were use to eating that late? Guess not. So we took two steps to the left, and found an Italian restaurant that agreed to stay open for us.

What a find. Restaurants in Spain are known for having what they call "menu del dia", where for 10 euro, you get two courses of your choice, wine, and dessert. Sometimes the choices are a little peculiar or just plain crappy, but this Italian restaurant was packing some great treats. Round one, I got lasagna-- bangin. Round two, I got prosciutto pizza. I don't really eat meat products, but I thought I would go for it, and just eat around the prosciutto if I didn't want it. When I ordered it, I expected it to be more of a personal sized pizza, but no. It was definitely like twelve inches in diameter. It was also bangin. Every last inch of it.

So after entering a serious food coma, we all went home for a restful night of indigestion.

Coincidentally, the following day, I felt incredibly motivated to start exercising more. Considering I'm only in class for nine hours a week, and I sleep for about 85 hours a week, that leaves exactly 74 hours of unoccupied time. I guess I no longer have an excuse to not work out. So I went on a run with two other girls for about 45 minutes. After getting back to my apartment, my my endorphins were kickin and I was feeling more motivated than ever before to get back into good cardio shape. Andrea wanted to go on a walk later, so I figured, why not? Might as well keep my muscles loose before they get super sore from running for the first time in 14 years.

Little did I know our walk would turn into a two hour marathon training session. My legs were absolutly dead by the end of the afternoon.