A bunch of friends and I indulged in an annual end-of-summer trip to the Ex. In short, a midway, bad food and more bad food so horrible that it's good.
I actually got up at 5:30 a.m. to get my morning run in so I could be ready for the after-work trip.
Tonight, I watched dozens of people line up for deep fried butter. And it smells worse than it sounds.
But being an Ex veteran (having worked there through my childhood) I headed straight for the Food Building and visited my uncle's fish and chip shop (H Salt. It's the best. Hands down)
Actually, one of my buddies went to uncle's shop while I lined up here.
For deep-fried Mac and Cheese.
We took a break and had ... two desserts. Hand made ice cream waffles.
And a bag of Tiny Toms.
And that, my friends, signals the end of summer.
And explains in a weird way why some of us run. We run to eat? We can sometimes indulge before we hit the trails to burn this all off. Coming up tomorrow or Friday, a 12 miler followed by 17 on Sunday.