Why can't I have bionic knees?

Last Friday night, I inhaled these two beauties from The Cupcake Bakery:

That's Peppermint Chocolate and some sort of delicious Chocolate Explosion that cost 0.80 more than normal cupcakes, but was worth every last drop.

I've been gaining a few pounds these days as a result of my sugar addiction, so I've made it a goal for myself to cut back.

I went for a run Saturday morning while Steven got to hog the bed for once (apparently I sleep in strange kicking yoga poses. But without any proof, I don't buy it).

Balls Head Reserve is quickly becoming my favourite part of my runs.

Sydney is absolutely beautiful in the morning!

By the time I got home, I literally collapsed into a heap on the ground. The last hills of the run were killer.

The picture really doesn't do this hill justice, because it is 45 degrees straight up. It levels off into a gentle little incline the rest of the way, which just adds to the burn.

My details:

Elevation kills me.

A few hours after the run, my right knee started feeling really sore.

Steven and I grabbed some lunch, walked around a bit, and my knee just kept hurting.

Until I plugged in my Garmin, I didn't really realize why:

That puny little 3.4 mile run had been my longest run since having my Garmin, which means my longest run in at least 3 months.

I've been steadily increasing my weekly mileage, but I guess 3.4 miles was just too much, too fast.

I'll have to make it a conscious effort to run slower, and run less. Alas. The life of a runner with a meniscus tear.

Saturday night was a big one for Steven and I. We went to the Sydney FC game against the Melbourne Wanderers. I am now a huge fan of soccer, even if it means random sweaty males falling all over the place and beer rain.

"Jump up! Jump up! Jump up! In the cove!" the chant went.

"Jump up! Jump up! Jump up! Feed a goat!" I heard.

Maybe I have a secret desire for a pet goat.