Day 2: FOMO vs.FOBO

Captain's log: day two is coming in hot and I am suffering from a major case of FOMO. I spent my evening last night in New Jersey at my parents' house dog sitting, and in between the time spent convincing myself that every noise was not in fact a burglar high on bath salts and hungry for my face, managed to keep the paleo train moving in the right direction. Dinner was a three egg omelet with red pepper, onion and spinach and a handful of nuts. At some point soon I do realize I'm going to have to expand my paleo horizons beyond eggs, but for now, if it ain't yolk, don't fix it. WORDPLAY. (...sorry.)

Anyway, I woke up this morning--face fully intacked--slugged two cups of coffee, took the notorious D-O-G for a walk, and headed out for a run. One of the best parts about going home to NJ is being able to run on trails and not on pavement. I've been running a lot lately in my inov-8s but I forgot to bring them home so today I went out in my old asics. I've been feeling some soreness in my lower legs so the combination of the extra cushioning from my kicks and the softer ground was the running equivalent to high fiving a million angels--amazing. Logged a solid 7-miler then got my egg on. There really is no cool way to convey how hungry I was post run, so I'll just get graphic: i crammed four hard boiled eggs into my mouth and slammed a cup of green tea. My man better watch out, cuz I'm coming for him.

So back to the FOMO. Today is St. Patrick's day in Hoboken and while I'm not Irish, in my early 20's, a fan of crowds of people or the color green, nor capable of starting my day drinking at 7am, one of my best friends lives there and planned a perfectly age appropriate celebratory brunch at her apartment to be followed by some totally acceptable drinks around town. The whole dog sitting situation didnt allow me to join in on the brunch but it's now 2pm, my parents have returned and released me from my responsibilities and I'm still not on my way to party-town. And herein lies my conundrum: what's worse? My FOMO (fear of missing out) or my FOBO (fear of being obese)? Alcohol, especially beer, isn't on the paleo spectrum, and having not even made it 48 hours into this thing, I don't think I could go there, especially now when the majority of the people celebrating have been raging face since the early morning hours, and not drink. I realize that makes me sound like an alchy--rest assured that's not the case. I just feel like walking into that situation this late in the game would be like this--awkward for everyone involved. So I bowed out, and will be having my St. Patrick's day fun by proxy via a hilarious stream of progressively drunken text messages.

Paleo:1, my social life: 0.