New Orleans: Working my brachioradialis

I have spent the last 6 days in New Orleans for the National Athletic Training convention. New Orleans is quite the town. Unfortunately I spent most of the time training my brachioradialis (bad PT joke) as opposed to sticking with the scheduled training plan. Althougth I must say that walking the French Quarter in flip flops is an excellent calf work out.

Kevin and I headed down last week and stayed in the heart of the French Quarter. We ate our way through the city - beignets at Cafe du Monde, fancy schmancy meal at Emeril Lagasse's NOLA, handgrenades and mudslides on Bourbon Street, and the best southern brunch at The Court of Two Sisters while serenaded by a jazz trio.

We were complete tourists - bought some local street art, took pictures on almost every street corner (that would be my doing), were in shock and awe of Bourbon Street and the open container policy, and of course, knocked 3 times on the tomb of Marie Laveau (Voodoo high priestest).

My training schedule sat in my carry-on bag the entire trip (bad Ironman-in-training). I feel like it was/is glaring at me as if to say, "glad you enjoyed your trip but now I'm going to kick your ass." Sigh.

Best part of going away.... returning home to the dog!