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17 May 2013

Confidence? Reality? A spoonful of sugar?

“To do your best, you’ve gotta believe in yourself. There is a functional link between physiology and psychology. If you have the confidence to do something, your body will respond. With confidence you can cope with various race day obstacles, but even slight problems are magnified if you lack it. Achieving goals – long training runs, consistent mileage, increasingly faster times in speed workouts and races – builds confidence, which results in further improvements in performance. Reflect on these successes as you approach a race and during it to keep your confidence strong.” Bob Glover, The Competitive Runner’s Handbook

It’s ugly at the rundogcatcatme household this morning and it doesn’t bode well for the rest of the day. And, yes, coffee: on the third.

Chunker must feel the tension because she is prowling about mewing and chirping at her stuffed toy ‘babies’. Just now she climbed up on the washer and dumped her kibble into the washing machine. Now I’ve got cat food pellets stuck under the agitator. I mean under the agitator in the washing machine, not the agitator in fur, mewing.

CHUNKDAMMITYOULITTLESHIT

Oddly just minutes before we were discussing yelling at our furry children and that our furry children didn’t have middle names to make the shout effective like it did when I would yell TRAITOR MIDDLE NAME CHILD DAMMIT I TOLD YOU BUT, NO, AND NOW WE HAVE TO GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM. AGAIN.

Apparently Chunker does have a middle name and I had just forgotten it.

Last night we gave the lake swim another try. Heather bravely faced the lake and announced there had better not be any &^%%&** snakes this time. I felt fine, buoyed by my new-found comfort and lack of fear in the lake Tuesday. Unfortunately I failed to realize I had a couple factors against me. First I forgot to use my inhalers yesterday and a front had come in (my trigger). Secondly, and much more importantly, Hubs was home. Home, and on the boat following us in the lake.

I have performance anxiety. I don’t mind failing or struggling in front of others (too much) but can’t stand to do so in front of Hubs, which is ridiculous because I usually manage to screw something up on a daily basis so I should surely be used to it by now. It embarrasses me, and he tries to fix everything which frustrates me (it’s a guy thing, isn’t it?). After all these years I should get over it. For some reason he’s fascinated by the thought of me swimming. He keeps saying, “I’ve never seen you swim” which means every time we’ve been to a pool he’s been struck blind? Or perhaps that doesn’t count if it’s not laps or something? I don’t know. I just know, at this point, that the pressure is on and it’s building and I cannot stand it.

B&H are two of the most mothering and nurturing people I have ever met, polar opposite of me. Becky stayed back with me when we set out. Every damn time I looked up there was that boat with Hubs, watching. The water was cool, I didn’t warm up and within a couple minutes my chest said Ciao, see ya later and shut down. I’d doggy paddle for a few minutes and set out again, Becky waiting and watching. I told her to go on, I’m fine. I swam a bit and floated a bit and doggy paddled a bit but I could never catch my breath, wheezing and pissed off, knowing that Hubs was watching me struggle. Finally I saw a dock and headed for it. I held on, trying to catch my breath, looking at our dock across the cove, a million miles away. Hubs and the boat swung around. I got on. ”I’m done. I’m fine, but I’m done.”

The reality, with no sugar-coating, is that inhalers or no, Hubs or no, I am not a strong enough swimmer to go even 400 yards. I will have to stop and I will have to stand in the 6 inches of marshmellow-y fish poopy fish burial mud until I can catch my breath and then I’ll have to start again. I’ll just have to boil my feet when I get home.

Well, SH*T.

One of my BRFF’s, Lisa, called yesterday to see how I was doing facing this weekend. She did her first Tri last summer. She told me how helpful Hubs was at the race start, consoling her with positive reinforcement. “You can FLOAT, cantcha?” he asked her. She nodded. ”You can DOGGY PADDLE cantcha?” She nodded. ”OKAY THEN, you’ll be FINE,” he boomed. She nodded.

Someone posted the quote above this morning. I can’t decide if the issue is that I don’t believe in myself enough and I need to pump myself with spoonfuls of sugar-y positive thinking and reinforcement all day, or if the issue is what I stated: I am simply not a strong enough swimmer at this time.

And if the reason is the fact that I am simply not strong enough at this time, is it negative to admit that? To be afraid, and to feel angry because I’m afraid?

Posted in Triathlon and tagged cat, coffee, exercise, fitness, healthy-living, Journey, muddy lake, positive thinking, Run, running, sugar coating, swimming, training, triathlon

13 May 2013

6 Comments

OCD much?

Hubs and I were out of town last week. You might think I would feel completely free to leave town now the kids are grown and gone, no worries, enjoy the trip, relax, eat drink and be merry.

But, no. First, I no longer have that burning desire to desert Rome as it burns, my mother and four children waving forlornly as we back down the drive, desperately repressing the jiggling as my legs begin the Happy Dance under the dashboard. NO VOMIT! NO DIAPERS! NO CRYING AND FIGHTING AND STEPPING ON DEADLY LEGOS! I’m FREE!

I can lazily drink coffee and read the paper daily now. I don’t have to put on adult clothes to take the kids to school and work the phones in the office from 8am to noon or help in the clinic wiping snot and blood. I don’t have to camp out in a hotel to have a bathroom all to myself. I don’t have to hide the chocolates in a tampon box. I don’t have to worry about organizing soccer/cheer/homework/scouts/cupcakes for the birthday party before leaving everyone. No worries, now. Free Free Free.

Instead I spent three days prior to leaving town waking at 3 and 4am worrying about — The Damn Cats. What if they refuse to eat? What if they pee on the bed? What if they … I don’t know … jeeze, they’re CATS – how much could go wrong?? But, no…wake, roll over, worry.

Obsess much?

Meanwhile – no pressure here – every damn day hubs insists that I need to try on his wetsuit and be sure it fits. Fine, I tried it on. OK, right, it was on backward but what the hell. It’s not like it’s gender specific. If it fits backwards it should fit frontwards. No, apparently it didn’t count, backwards negates the experience so now I have to try it on … again.

Then, after I try it on again, he thinks I need to take it to the Center and swim in the damn thing. Remember the pool running incident (here)? Where all the senior water exercise class people glared at Becky and me in shock and awe? What do you think it will do to them if I show up at the pool in a f*cking wetsuit? How long will it take management to get all the exploded brain matter out of that water? And can they sue me for the damages?

Still hubs remains – daily – sincere in his insistent insistence that I must absolutely without doubt swim in water with the wetsuit. I pointed out that if I fail to do so prior to the race, and it is a wetsuit legal race, I will swim in the water to warm up and I will be wearing the wetsuit. I think that counts as swimming before the race. I mean, what if I swim in the wetsuit at the Center and I find out it doesn’t work so well? Is that going to change the temperature of the water Saturday?

Last week I ordered a tri-suit. It was in the mail when we got home. I pulled it out of the packaging. This sucker will not fit a skinny pre-pubescent 13-year-old. I don’t know why they wasted a 9×13 envelope to send it to me, it would have fit fine in a letter sized and saved some postage, which they handily charged me. Now I’ve spent $79 + tax, shipping and handling on something that weighs about four ounces and I may wear only once in my life – if I can even get it on. And hubs is happy I spent the money. If I buy a new lipstick and he sees it he asks me how much it cost. Tri-suit? Wet-suit? Bike? Helmet? Bike shoes? He’s throwing money at it like it was beads in New Orleans and he might see some boobs.

I spent one morning at the hotel swimming, then got on the spin bike and did 13 miles, then ran three. There, I’ve done the distance, so mentally I got that out of the way. What I realized is that I do not care at all about this triathlon like I have all the races I’ve trained for. I’m just as obsessive about getting everything organized, not forgetting anything, hoping I don’t bonk, but I don’t really care about doing the event. All I really care about is getting it over with.

Training for halves, fulls, 50K’s, I check weather for weeks, mentally preparing for wind/rain/floods/solar flares and meteors. I’m scared, nervous – but it’s an excited nervous fright. It can still get ugly – marathoniritationitis (with a graphic, here) is nothing to laugh at, but there’s still an excitement about the whole thing. This one: if it rains, oh well. If it’s hot, well damn. If it’s cold, well sh*t. Oh, well. If I get there, and I don’t like the weather, I might just decide not to do the event, and right now I cannot dredge up any impending regret, other than I’d be forced to register for another one and go through all this again.

Last night I dreamed I had a curse that if I talked to someone it would take away one of their powers. Unfortunately Becky asked me a question in my dream. I replied without thinking and it stripped her power to do triathlons.

Obsess much?? This is going to be a bitch of a week…

You can’t fall off a marathon, and you can’t sink in a 50K, and all you need is some shorts, a shirt and some shoes.

The truth is: I’m cranky and pissed and obsessed about the cats because I’m scared of this one and it’s not an excited nervousness. It’s just fear.

Posted in Triathlon and tagged 50K, bike, biking, cat, exercise, Felt F80, fitness, half marathon, healthy-living, Journey, marathon, marathonirritationitis, mental-health, Run, running, tri-suit, triathlon, wetsuit

20 Apr 2013

3 Comments

Never leave home without it

Tuesday was the one year anniversary of my dad’s passing (I like the word “passing’”. Passages. Life is a series of them.) so I was visiting with my mom for the past week. She lives in the hills about 1-1/2 hours north/northwest of Phoenix. The town is not that small but I was reduced to 2G on my iPad, which sucked since I’m attached at the hip to the internet and have no life to speak of. I felt rather as though one of my arms had been torn off. Probably by Zombies. This was particularly irritating when area TV stations kept emailing MRTC to see if we had any runners in Boston and could I give them their personal contact info. We have 3400 members, I don’t know and I’m not giving you their personal info if I did know, but thanks for asking. That, however, took 12 minutes to type every time, apparently you can’t type too fast on an iPad with 2G or you crash it. Repeatedly.

Hey, at least I didn’t have to call AT&T, right?

Mom lives in a bi-level house built on the side of a steep plot of land, the backyard about 1-1/2 stories above the street. The guest room is downstairs and the window sill is level with the yard. I look upward to watch chipmunks steal sunflower seeds from the bird feeder and see the lizards amble past. It’s cool and dark and I’ve named it The Bat Cave.

Every evening we watched movies on AMC, which, as an aside, I’m kinda pissed at AMC. Mom’s AMC is having a special this month with little notes popping up throughout the film about the actors, funny anecdotes, etc. I was so excited. I was going to watch AMC the rest of the month and learn all kinds of useless pieces of info. For instance I learned, while watching Willie Wonka, that all the little Oompa Loompas liked to rent a limo every day after filming and bar hop. This was particularly funny to me, and totally not PC, because I kept having a mental image of the little dudes hopping up so they could see over the bar: HOP “Scotch” HOP “on the” HOP “rocks, please” (bar? hopping? right?) So I apologize if either of you are an Oompa Loompa and also that I’m an insensitive un-PC bitch.

But, no. No little notes on my AMC. Dammit.

Oh, well, I’ve been distracted by the talking heads on CNN anyway.

Mom is of an unstated age that allows her to pick and choose what she feels like doing and I expect she’s earned that right. Personally, however, I do think she should have felt like killing those large red ants with the big mound of ant mansion in her backyard sometime in the last few years. I particularly think she should have killed them before one of the little bass turds bit my foot. Dammit, that hurt.

I grabbed some rubbing alcohol and some cortisone cream and some anti-itch cream and sat with ice on it while we watched the Oompah Loopahs roll away the large blueberry girl (one of my favorite parts, although I’m sure it wasn’t fun for her as she apparently wore the Styrofoam ball all day long and couldn’t eat while the rest of the crew had lunch because her arms couldn’t reach her mouth. Seriously? No one could spoon a little soup in her mouth?) Then I started worrying about her. What if she needed to go to the bathroom?

Well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?

Sorry, I’m back now, I was gone for a while there ^^^ Chunk is on my desk hovering over my keyboard, trying to smack my hand every time I type. Apparently the typing is keeping her awake or something. So sorry, Princess, your constant jumping on me is the whole reason we’re all awake at 4am. Think about that tomorrow. Anyway, now she is distracted as the sun is coming up and she can see the birds outside so she’s at the window chirping, tail twitching, and no longer trying to kill the dreaded Fingers of Typing. That’s some tail, I tell you. I had to move my coffee cup.

After Charlie gave Mr. Wonka the Everlasting Gobstopper back (which, BTW, they do make Everlasting Gobstoppers in real life but they actually only last 16 minutes, thank you, AMC) and proved he was a great guy and got to own the whole candy factory I retired to the Bat Cave to read a while before bed. Of course then that damn ant bite started itching like fire. I didn’t want to go back upstairs to get all the anti-itch stuff because every step you take in that 40-year old house makes the cups rattle slightly in the cupboard and I would wake mom, so I sat there for a while trying to ignore it. You know how that goes. Pretty soon the ant bite was the size of a basketball and it was all I could think of, itch! itch! itch!, the way a mosquito in the night ends up the size of a 747 and the next morning the bedroom looks like a war zone because you’ve thrown everything you could find at the damn thing and now you have to buy a new lamp. Not that I ever did that.

I kept thinking there had to be something I could put on it to sooth the itching, something in that bathroom had to have alcohol in it, right? Dad’s old aftershave? Something? But, no. Mousse, Ajax, extra lightbulbs, I dug everything out of the cupboard – nothing. I started digging through my overnight bag, furiously rubbing my foot against my leg uselessly trying to stop the burning itch which was now half the size of Alaska.

And then, voilà:

It worked! Or, maybe it was just mental, but either way, the itching finally stopped, I fell asleep in the cool darkness of the Bat Cave and slept not like a baby until the sun came up.

We had another fun day and went shopping and eating and shopping and eating. I had a nice run in the hills – at 5,000 feet it takes a while to get acclimated to the thinner air so I had to do some stopping and starting but it was a beautiful day and I was so happy to be running my beautiful Arizona. You can’t feel too sad when you have a view like this:

And this:

Beautiful, huh?

That evening we watched Ground Hog Day and read all the little stories at the bottom of the screen which my AMC doesn’t have, not that I’m bitter or going to harp on that all month. Then I went to the Bat Cave to read my second book since I’d finished the first book I’d brought. This new book was one of those that Oprah’s kingdom has deemed worthy of her honor and they’d slapped a sticker on the front. But the sticker was a little loose in one spot, which was irritating because I could feel it with my fingers while I held the book. So I tried to pull it off but I think they use Gorilla Glue or something on those things so all it did was tear in half and then when I tried to read it was sticky. This was even more irritating. I tried scraping it off with my fingernail but that started to mess up the book cover, which was currently new and smooth. If you’re going to read a book it either needs to be new and smooth or totally worn out, not sort of new and sort of worn out. There had to be a way to get that sticky off the cover. If only I had something with a little alcohol … or … something…

So now my book reeks of mouth wash.

But – it’s smooth and new and the sticky is gone.

I’m telling you: do not leave home without it.

Posted in Running and tagged ant, ant bite, antiseptic, cat, coffee, exercise, fitness, healthy-living, Journey, mouthwash, Pet, Run, running, Zombies

05 Mar 2013

7 Comments

Calories Calories everywhere…

Since I’m so ecstatic about being out of shape so I can burn more calories, calories now show up everywhere. It’s like when you get dressed up all nice to go out to dinner. Then, on the way to the restaurant to meet your friends, you realize that the rogue chin hair you’ve been waging battle with for so many years it’s gone and turned grey – but hasn’t died – has suddenly sprouted to 1/2″ in length. Overnight. Now all you can think of is this stupid thing sticking out of your chin like a lighthouse beam. You’re pretty sure it’s picking up signals from Jupiter. Others in the restaurant seem to be staring at you. Your chin, specifically. Although certainly you are just being paranoid.

Not that it’s ever happened to me, like, Friday night.

Meanwhile it’s become obvious that the kitty chow I got last month was very yummy and loved greatly by Munker and Mo, who were asking me about every 90 minutes for more. Even more obvious than the frequency of the requests was the unmistakable thickening of kitty waistlines and the greatly more audible THUMP of Chunker hitting the floor. I have responsibilities here. We do live in an earthquake zone.

Yesterday we ran out of the Crack Kitty Chow. I bought some ‘Adult’ cat food with reduced calories. Now the kitty food bowls remain full while cats look at me questioningly. ”Mom? What happened to our food?” Fortunately they don’t seem to connect the crappy new food to me and Kroger.

I told Hubs I’d bought adult diet cat food and not only did I think the reduced calories would help them slim down, the fact they wouldn’t eat it would probably rapidly increase the weight loss. Hubs thinks this is a great policy to pursue with the cats and not at all optional for humans. I don’t think it’s very workable anyway, since basically the only thing I won’t eat is Brussels Sprouts and slimy stuff like eels. I haven’t seen eels at Kroger.

So, the calorie thing now seems to be lit up like a Vegas show. As evidenced by this post, which popped up a while ago:

What. The. Heck? That SUCKS. 674?? that’s all??

However, my good running buddy (and Mo’s first stepmom), Elizabeth, turned to Al Gore’s most awesome creation, the Inter Net Web Thingie, uncovering the data that an M&M has, in fact, 3.44 calories, making the total amount of M&M’s you can eat after running a marathon and burning 2900 calories 843.02325 and not 674 lousy candies.

The good news here is that, probably, if you are out of shape but still manage to stumble through a marathon, you might could eat even more M&M’s. If you had enough energy left to chew. Maybe you could just lie down face first in a pile of them, then you could eat them without any extra energy expenditure. Perhaps the RD’s of marathons should consider a pit of M&M’s like the pit of colored balls in the kiddie section of McDonald’s. Runners could finish the race and jump in, swimming through the M&M’s, chomping away.

Also I did the math, if you burned 2900 calories on a marathon you could eat 6.17 servings of an Enchirito and a Mexican Pizza. If you called it even and only ate 6 servings you’d be at a net calorie loss.

And people think runners and marathoners are crazy.

Posted in Running and tagged brussels sprouts, calories, cat, cat food, Enchirito, exercise, fitness, food, healthy-living, M&M, marathon, Mexican Pizza, Pet, Run, running, Taco Bell, training

02 Mar 2013

2 Comments

There goes the castle.

It’s a grey cold windy day with flakes of snow blowing sideways past my window. None of it is sticking, although we woke to enough to lightly blanket the grass and the deck was white. I have Italian herb bread in the bread machine (I cheat, but it makes such a nice dough! Then I bake it in the oven, not in the bread machine.) and minestrone will soon be on the stove. Murphy is curled up in the bed and Chunk and Mo are off somewhere asleep. They should be, they were crazy this morning. thudthudthudthud thundering down the hallway. thudthudthudthud back down the hallway. thudthudthudthud up the stairs. thudthudthudthud down the stairs. Suddenly the happy little felines went thudthudthudthud through the kitchen nearly knocking my coffee mug out of my hand. Near death experience for cats.

Don’t break my new coffee cup!

I Love Grumpy Cat. *heart* *heart*

Everything went well in Oxford and Sunday I was surprised – I was not sore at all. Rather like someone who just bought a matching set of Ford Pintos, I was, however, feeling deeply remorseful over the Fbombs exploding in my head Saturday and showering all over poor Maggie, who happened to be running next to me when they started igniting, and was regretting my effing slightly effing negative effing attitude. Not that I’m always Little Mary Sunshine anyway, but I’m thinking I may have also been spitting pea soup in a circle on the course.

Unfortunately Monday morning I apparently tried breathing or thinking or something and suddenly my lower back went “EFFFINGSUNUVABEECH” only louder and with a lot more intensity. Who knew, we actually have live wires that run through our body and my back had stuck its finger in the socket. I moved and it hit again. My back was in labor. I already have a back. I don’t need to birth another. I’m not even registered at Babies BackwardR Us. Thank God for Lamaze classes, little did I know decades later I would be using the breathing techniques again.

Tuesday it was no better and I called Dr. Krackurback – who is out of the office on Tuesdays, oh yippee skippy – and got an appointment for Wednesday, resigning myself to spending the day walking around like a puppet on a string, jerking erratically. Hey, it gave the cats something to look at. Murphy slept through it all, curled up on his blanket. Just don’t touch his blanket. Ever. He jumps like it just exploded and looks at you: WHAT? WHAT? WHAT DID I DO? all sleepy-eyed and confused. It makes you feel really guilty. Especially the 7th or 8th time.

Wednesday Dr. K explained to me that muscles are like a castle wall. Muscles are the first line of defense. If the muscles hold the castle then all the kings and queens and little knaves and knavettes are safe. If the invaders start knocking the wall down, and the wall is already rather rickety – maybe made out of bamboo instead of bricks – pretty soon the wall gives in, the castle is invaded and everyone starts screaming and trying to shove knives into the knaves and pouring boiling oil all over the place.

He’d already figured out that my Quadratus lumborum is weak and gave me some exercises to do but noted it would not be a quick fix, need to get the muscles strengthened and that takes time. (Seriously. Quadratus! lumborum! Doesn’t that sound like some made up word that Harry shouted at Voldemort? ZZZaaaaat!)

No, it’s just a stupid muscle in your back. The short of it is I slightly sprained my SI joint (castle) because I strained the QL (rickety wall of bamboo) because it’s a sorry a$$ 99 pound weakling at the beach, all white and puny and skinny getting sand kicked in its face, stupid thing. Probably it got a bit tuckered out, poor weak little jerk, feeling sorry for itself because my butt never invited it to the Falling Off Party and later when everyone else was all laughing hahahaha at inside jokes that happened at the party the QL got jealous and decided to go remedial.

So, it’s all good. I know what happened and how, I know what to do to fix it, and I can be patient working on it. I took it easy this week and moved carefully in order not to re-strain anything; every day it’s better.

I can’t feel too badly about any of this – I’m in a lot better shape than Becky, who’s got a stress fracture of the 5th metatarsal and possibly 6 weeks off running. Today we swam. I used the swimming buoy so I didn’t kick (no need to upset QL, the whiny brat, I’d go down like a rock) all arms pulling which is great as they also need to get stronger. I did OK, got 1750 yards. I wanted 2,000 but was losing my form – no need for that, just another way to get hurt.

While I was swimming, backandforth-backandforth-backandforth, for the first time I thought, this isn’t too bad. I could breathe well enough. I didn’t have to hold onto the side at each turn. It felt … good.

Posted in Running and tagged BFOS, Butt Falling off Syndrome, cat, coffee, Coffee mug, dog, exercise, fitness, Grumpy Cat, healthy-living, Journey, Keurig, Quadratus lumborum, Run, running, swimming, training

19 Feb 2013

6 Comments

Hmmmm. I see what happened there…

…when I left the house for thirty minutes to help a desperate friend in need.

Chunker and Murphy will be spending some hours in time out. And I’ve taken away their phones so don’t bother trying to text them.

Becky and I both work from home, alone in our lonely, cold garrets, surrounded by wadded up Taco Bell wrappers and discarded K-cups, huddled in the chill in our pajama pants and Uggs, wearing our favorite sweatshirt emblazoned YIPPY SKIPPY RUN 2001, the fleece covered with pilled lumps of thread, talking to pretend people on Facebook and blogging with our animals who are treated better than any child ever was.

Becky’s job requires actual work, as opposed to mine, and she has to type many very big words that have a lot of the alphabet in each one and include many z’s, x’s and y’s – which are the hardest keys to find, you know, stuck down in the corner of the keyboard like an afterthought.

After 7 straight hours of transcription Becky sat back, stretched, and her eyeballs fell out onto her desk. She managed to find them although she did accidentally knock one off onto the floor and it rolled under the credenza which took her a while; she finally slid it out with a yardstick. She wandered crookedly into the kitchen for a cup of coffee to help wipe the cobwebs from her addled brain.

Her brain intoned, “I spy with our dusty little eye that we only have three K-cups. This is nowhere near enough to fill the IV bag.” Then her brain started to scream, ”NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Becky wandered back to her desk, frightened and alone, all alone with only Brain and three K-cups in the house. ”I only have three K-cups to last me until tomorrow. Good-bye. I loved you all.” she typed to her imaginary friends on FB.

I’LL SAVE YOU! I replied! and I leapt or lept or leaped in my trusty Explorer, Babs, and brought her coffee and saved her life and that of her family and probably several neighbors! I was a hero! News Channel Zippy wanted to interview me! But I’m humble and loving and giving and told the reporter than I needed no reward or recognition for saving my friend, her family, the neighborhood and, probably, actually, the world.

And you know the rest of the story. I left the computer open in my haste and apparently Chunker and Murphy had a little verbal sparring contest with my blog. I apologize and I would make them write an apology too but I believe they would enjoy that too much.

Flush with her success, Chunk has become a terror today. I heard a faint mewing and tracked her down in the closet, on a pile of boxes, trying to climb up and walk across the hangers. When she saw me she jumped down and wandered regally down the hallway. ”What? There’s nothing to see here,” her tail twitched. She jumped up on the bathroom counter so fast she skidded into Mo, knocking him into the sink. Ignoring him, she then tried to grab my arm to turn on the water, which I did just so I could watch her shove her snooty nose in the air and jump back down. She’s terrorized Mo, attacked the bedskirt, tried to eat the fern then turned, jumped on the desk and slid to the other side falling off onto the chair, smacked Murphy on the nose for no reason whatsoever and then, when I came upstairs to work, I found this:

And her royal highness, seated on my laptop, was searching online:

Apparently she either needs glasses or needs to dust her eyeballs because she had enlarged the screen. And she doesn’t seem to know exactly how to spell oy vey, but I have a feeling I know what her next comments about me were going to be.

Posted in Pets and tagged cat, coffee, dog, K-cups, Keurig, Pet, yippy skippy

18 Feb 2013

2 Comments

chunker is a suck up

i didn’t drool on mom’s shoes. i just kinda licked them a little bit.

chunk thinks she is so smart but mom got out the heating pad to sit on and then chunk ran over and jumped up on mom’s lap and fell asleep in about 13 seconds. i knew she would do that. so now mom can’t get up because chunk is asleep on her lap. so now i get to write stories.

this is a good story. there was a bird that came in our yard and i barked at it and it flew away. then, i peed on the grass where the bird was.

see? yeah. dumb bird.

this is a good story too. mom made carrots. me and mom love carrots. she chops them up chopchopchop and then she says ooops! and the carrot falls on the floor! then i get a carrot and she gets a carrot. then she chops carrots more and another one falls on the floor! i love it! i love it! i jump and catch it and it never lands on the floor because i am so fast! chomp chomp!

then i run in a circle and then i see momo and i chase him! hahahaha we run and run and i bark and bark.

oops. mom just said MURPHYTYOUDIPSHITQUITBARKING

which that means. um. i’m not sure.

i’ll just wag my tail and look at her. i think that’s what it means.

yep. that worked. then she said, murphy you are so crazy.

that means i love you.

i love you too mom!

Posted in Pets and tagged cat, chomp chomp, dog, Pet, wag my tail

18 Feb 2013

4 Comments

HI! It’s me, Chunk!

I thought mom would never leave. she’s been hogging the computer all day. then she had an emergency, she said oh my gosh this is bad Becky is out of coffee! and she ran through the house and got in CAR which I hate, stupid thing. I don’t know how she can help Becky when the only place that CAR ever goes is to the horrible vet that puts things up inside where things should not be put up inside a self-respecting cat and then pokes you with needles while the entire room stinks and reeks of dogs which drool.

I wanted to get on the computer because I have to google doctor krackurback and send him an email and tell him thank you for fixing mom’s butt. I don’t really get it, since it’s mostly her head that gets upset about stuff, but humans are just funny things and you have to love them anyway. So anyway her head is much happier now. She doesn’t say oh my aching head I wish I could burn off some energy.

yesterday she came home and said oh sweet little chunker you are so pretty! then she said oh my little MoMo you little sweetie you’re so sweet and then she said Murphy! Do you want to go outside? and of course he’s such an idiot he said yes but then as soon as he was outside he wanted back in because he needed to smell mom’s shoes. He said her shoes smelled like dirt and grass and moles and squirrels and all kinds of stuff. He liked them a lot and then he rubbed his nose all over them and finally I said Murphy jeeze get a hotel.

Dogs drool. I wonder if mom knows there is drool all over her shoes. ick.

anyway she said oh Munker I had so much fun I ran cross country today. Which I’m telling you, I love her but she’s so stupid. I know that country is big. I googlemapped how to get to Petco and it’s a long way across the country. I don’t think she could run that far in one hour. She said she ran ten Kays across country. Whatever ten Kays are she was happy and said it was a pretty day out with the sun shining going For A Run like she did. But I know her friend Ms Kay and I don’t think there are ten of them. Also Ms Kay doesn’t run. So, you see how she is, even on her good days. No wonder me and Mo have to take naps. She wears us out.

Also it’s real nice she left for a while because she’s been singing again. She has the radio on and she is singing and it’s awful. It’s like that time she stepped on Mo’s tail and he screeched and yowled and ran and hid behind the dryer for thirtyseven hours. Only worse. Louder. Screechier. Endless.

I wanna ROCK and ROLL all NITE and PARTY every DAY
I wanna ROCK and ROLL all NITE and PARTY every DAY

Then later she should have put on a sweatshirt because she was

OOH OOH OOH cold as, cold as
I, i, ice, (you’re as cold as ice) yes (Right here she would give a little bounce in her chair and fist pump the air)

(Cold as ice) You’re as cold as ice, cold as ice, I know
(Cold as ice) You’re as cold as ice, yes I know
(Cold as ice) You’re as cold as ice, you’re as cold as ice, cold as ice, I know

So if she knows so much she should turn the heat up. I love the heat. I love to sit on top of the heating vent. it’s so warm and cozy and I love it. I curl up on top of the vent and the nice hotness keeps me so nice and warm. then mom is like, MUNKER! no wonder it’s cold in this room! But it’s not cold at all! It’s wonderful and warm. So again you see she’s basically an idiot.

Oh shoot I hear CAR! I gotta go!

Also, HI MR. DAGUMMETT!!

Posted in Pets, Running and tagged BFOS, Butt Falling off Syndrome, cat, chunker, dog, exercise, fitness, Foreigner, healthy-living, Kiss, Mo, Murphy, Pet, Run, running, training

03 Feb 2013

11 Comments

Happy Sunday

this is really a great weekend. mom said that she is not going to do any work all weekend, and then she went downstairs and started cleaning her office. which she really needed to do because it’s a big mess. she should not leave papers on the bed like it was a filing cabinet because it’s not fair to Mo. Mo loves paper. he loves to jump on it. then if it flips up he tries to hide under it. which that’s kind of stupid because he’s bigger than a piece of paper and I can still see him so then I jump on the bed and smack his head just to show him. then he smacks my head and we have a really fun time rolling around on the bed pretend fighting.

then you know what she does? she gets mad at US. we aren’t the ones leaving her papers all over the bed. she should yell at herself but she says HEY! you SILLY CATS! WHAT are you DOING!? and then Mo gets scared and hides under the bed for thirtyseven more hours.

anyway, she’s down there muttering like she always does so me and Mo are up in the sunporch and guess what?? she left the laptop turned on! So now I can talk to everyone again! Two days in row! I’m so happy. you have no idea how boring mom is. Oh My Cat, she is boring. sometimes I fall asleep right on top of her, bored out of my mind while she is still talking.

which also I found some more great dumb dog pictures

hey. wait. How did that picture of the cat get on there?? that just ticks me off.

I’ll hunt them down.

anyway, this morning was so nice. I was all cuddled up soft and warm with my nose under my paws. Hey, mom made a poem for me. Do you want to hear it? She named it Sheldon’s Song but I don’t know why because she made it up for me and also she doesn’t sing. which that is a very good thing because she sounds like two cats screeching. believe me, I would know.

Sheldon’s Song for Chunker
Soft kitty,
Warm kitty,
Little ball of fur.
Happy kitty,
Sleepy kitty,
Purr, purr, purr.

So that’s what I was doing. purr purr purr and then all of a sudden the stupid dog is in the kitchen barking which totally woke me up. If I were mom I would have said, dammitmurphyyoudipshit you’re barking at your own dad.

which actually that is what she said.

dad was standing outside the kitchen door, looking at us and Murphy was barking at him. See? I’m telling you, that dog is dumb. Mo and me said, Murphy, you’re so stupid. That’s dad!

Murphy looked up and saw dad. he said, oh, sorry and sat down and started licking himself.

anyway, it turned out that the secret door opening thing is broke. serves them both right. they never let me and Mo outside through the door anyway. it’s their turn not to get to go out the door.

altho dad did look sort of cold, standing out there in the dark carport. So then I felt bad. for like, a whole minute.

so the other thing that was fun is last night mom sat at the computer box downstairs and she started yelling for dad to COME HERE and she was laughing. She told dad LOOK! My review is on amazon.com! then dad laughed too so I think it was a good thing. One clue is if the word dipshit or dammit is in the loud voice. If not, then you’re probably ok.

I don’t really get it. I looked at her reviews and she doesn’t make any sense. for one thing, we both know her name is not Hortence. See if you can figure it out. Also she told dad to please go like it so I don’t know what that means, because he laughed so I know he did but I guess I’ll ask you two to like it, too.

Tasty but deadly

Rabbit Stew destroys first floor of Shady Grove Nursing Home

OH! I gotta go! Dad just came home and can’t get in the door again so Murphy is barking and I bet mom will yell at him again! YAY! I’m telling you, it’s a great day!!!

Oh – also, Maya is a dog. Dogs drool. Cats rule. Nanner nanner.

Posted in Pets and tagged amazon.com review, cat, dog, dumb dog pictures, Fresh Whole Rabbit by Cloverdale, Pet, Provolone Piccante Cheese, Sharp, soft kitty warm kitty

02 Feb 2013

12 Comments

Meh.

Mom finally went outside for a run, I’m so happy! I’m getting kind of tired of her hogging the computer, I haven’t gotten to surf online for days. You have to go look at this page. it’s my very favorite. stupid dog pictures

the other day she went to Swim which is someplace she goes to that makes her mumble about ‘crazy’ and ‘stupid’. I don’t think she’s really stupid. she’s crazy, tho. anyway, she finally went to Swim and I got to visit online with my new friend Mr. Daggumett. Mom always walks around saying daggumett where are my keys? and daggummett where is my phone? and I never knew who daggummett is, or why he has all mom’s keys and phone and stuff, but now I know he lives in the computer box mom talks to all the time. I looked at the computer box and it is not very big. I don’t know how so many people fit in it. And cats and dogs, too. I know they live in it because I see their pictures. Mom got me and Mo and Murphy out of the computer box. She saw our pictures and said, I *heart* that kitty and then we popped out of the computer box and live in a house now. Mo is especially happy because before he lived in the computer box he lived all by himself in some trees outside on the Green Way and he could have been eaten by a bobcat. But he wasn’t.

I never met a cat named Bob.

Also Murphy got in trouble which made it an even better day. Mom said Murphy is a dipshit and also that whenever dad comes home Murphy has to show his co-hoenees. I don’t see anyone else around him so I don’t know who his co-hoenees are but maybe they are invisible. First he saw dad come in the house so he started barking like an idiot and made Mo run under the bed for thirtyseven hours. Then he ate my food and mom got real mad and said Murphy youdipshitthatfoodcoststwentysevendollarsabag.

I asked murphy what’s a dollar and he said he doesn’t know but he thinks they taste like cat food.

I love mom even though she is a bit challenged with communication. the other day I wanted to play in the water at the Sink. I love to play in the water at the Sink. Sometimes I don’t play with it. I just look at it, so clear and smooth and soft and watery

sometimes I just look at it…

just looking at the water, so pretty….

mom says CHUNK! dammit! and then she turns it off! Then she mumbles about water running for the past hour and dollars. What cat food has to do with water I don’t know.

so anyway I wanted to play with the water in the Sink and she walked into the bathroom so I patted her on the arm, HEY! LADY! I want to play with the WATER!

She said, oh, little Munker, your paw is so soft and you are so cute.

So I patted her on the other arm, HEY! LADY! I want to play with the WATER!

She said, Munker, I just love you, you are so sweet.

idiot. she’s an idiot.

Oh rats. she’s back, I hear her. I’d better go rub on her leg and see if she’s been seeing other cats.

If you find any good pictures of stupid dogs send them to me.

Posted in Pets and tagged animals, cat, dog, Pet

Run. Dog. Cat. Cat. Me.

Everything you need to know about running and life and any other random crap I find bouncing through my mind like a ping pong ball. And always be sure your shoes are happy.

Archive for the tag “cat”

Confidence? Reality? A spoonful of sugar?

OCD much?

Never leave home without it

Calories Calories everywhere…

There goes the castle.

Hmmmm. I see what happened there…

chunker is a suck up

HI! It’s me, Chunk!

Happy Sunday

Meh.

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