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 month “January, 2012”

Never Mind. We’re all Fine.

This just came on.

http://www.metacafe.com/watch/4282757/champion_jack_dupree_shake_baby_shake_1967/

She Shook Baby Shook so much I think the foundation just cracked.

Then after that this one came on:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ROzGihgCj8

She Got Up Offa That Thing and she started Dancing ‘Til She Felt Better and when she went do to the splits like James Brown she slid across the floor and slammed into the refrigerator.  She isn’t moving so much right now and I think she’ll stay quiet and calm for a while.

Please … help … us …

It’s a good thing someone in this house has a sense of responsibility and maturity because Mom and Dog are basically useless.  I do have to admit mom is cute most of the time, doing her little running play times and coming home with those awesome smelly clothes, but Dog just smells like raccoon sh*t and sleeps.

Mom was in a bit of a funk this morning.  She muttered something about Damn Cat and Sitting On My Head and Being Awake Since 4:30A.M and Monday and Piles of Paperwork and Ran out of Coffee (which I’m not sure what Coffee is but I think it’s sorta like catnip.  Except she doesn’t roll in it.  She appears to pray to it.  She holds Coffee Cup I Love You Coffee Cup in front of her nose, breathes deeply and says Thank You little baby Jesus in your straw filled crib for Coffee) .

By the way, I tell you what, if I ever find Damn Cat I’m going to take him out.  Every time Damn Cat makes mom mad I end up shut in the bathroom.

So anyway, Mom seemed to be in a bit of a frump and then she talked to Computer Box and said to Computer Box what we need is some Pandora (which in case you don’t know who Pandora is, I Wikied it for you:  “In Greek Mythology, Pandora (ancient Greek: Πανδώρα, derived from πᾶν “all” and δῶρον “gift”, thus “all-gifted” or “all-giving”) was the first woman”.  Apparently her nickname is Mo Town.  Computer Box found Pandora Mo Town and now we need help and we need it soon.  Dog has already abdicated and is cowering under the upstairs guest bed with his paws wrapped tightly around his ears.  There is no one else to save us but me.

She got out of her funk all right but now she is bouncing in her chair and screeching with Computer Box

Do you loooooooooooove me? (I can really move)
Do you loooooooooooove me? (I’m in the groove)
Ah do you love? (Do you love me)
Now that I can dance (dance)

My ears are crying.  Three of the glasses in the cabinet have shattered and several books have fallen off the shelves.  Paint is peeling off the walls.

Please send help.

Cat.

As pointed out by a concerned friend…

…there could be a valid reason to be concerned about Chunker’s motives.  Her earlier defensiveness, which I interpreted as desire to remain cuddled on my lap out of love and devotion for me could be, in reality, the fact that she believes she is involved in a relationship with my awesome Plaid Bell Bottom Fleece pants.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

*SOB*

Occupy Terri Movement

Sitting at my desk in my incredibly awesome PLAID BELL BOTTOM FLEECE PANTS which I obtained for only $19.99 plus tax, I realize that the Occupy Movement has entered my home, where I’m being Occupied by Sleeping Cat who looks really sweet and docile doesn’t she?  Until I decide I’d like more coffee, at which point she makes Norman Bates look quite calm and reasonable.

So I’m sitting here thinking A) shouldn’t Starbucks start a delivery service?  B) can I telepathically communicate with the milk and the Honey Nut Cheerios to prepare themselves and teleport to my desktop?  C) the really awesome part of this is that I have on my incredibly awesome PLAID BELL BOTTOM FLEECE PANTS which I obtained for only $19.99 plus tax.  D) why does the hubs make comments about homeless people when he sees my awesome PLAID BELL BOTTOM FLEECE PANTS?  I guess he wishes they were all that lucky too.

A friend sent this to me (below).  Apparently Chunk reads my email because she does think she’s a goddess.  Meanwhile the dog is sleeping in the corner, happy because he got to go outside this morning and smell raccoon sh*t.  He’s also thinking how sad he is that Mom caught him before he could get a good roll in it.  But there’s always later.

A dog thinks: ‘Hey, these people I live with feed me, love me, provide me with a nice warm, dry house, pet me and take good care of me … THEY MUST BE GODS!’ 

A cat thinks: ‘Hey, these people I live with feed me, love me, provide me with a nice warm, dry house, pet me and take good care of me … I MUST BE A GOD!’

I’m thinking I probably should quit talking about  my incredibly awesome PLAID BELL BOTTOM FLEECE PANTS which I obtained for only $19.99 plus tax because probably all two of the loyal followers of my world famous blog will be terribly sad and jealous they don’t have any and it will make them feel insignificant.  Which they are, but still.

The cat decided to go Occupy Litter Box so I’m heading upstairs for more coffee.  This time I will have the sense to hold my nose as I walk down the hallway.

i did not

i dId not fARt. 

dOg.

That is not what happened.

What really happened is that Dog was under her desk and he farted.  A lot.  It was like tornado sirens except it was only smell and no sound.  WAAAAaaaaOOOOOOOOoooo WAAAAaaaaaOOOOOOOOoooooo

I kept trying to tell her he was going to fart but she kept saying you’re so funny little cat playing with me on my desk!  But I wasn’t playing I was trying to tell her that she needed to run, run for her life because I saw him eating that stuff out of the garbage can and I knew that it was going to be really really bad.  I am a highly evolved animal with a highly evolved sense of smell so I know these things.  But humans are pretty simple creatures so it’s difficult to communicate with them at times. They’re so cute though.  I keep them around just because they’re so cute, despite the fact that they are hard to train and they don’t listen well, and they have the sense of smell of a baby carrot.   So after she fainted from the dog’s farts I tried to carry her to safety but since she took me to Petco and got all my daggers – meh, I mean claws, sorry – cut all short I could not pull her away so it served her right.

Anyway, she’s so cute, out there in the den watching Biggest Loser and cheering them all on, I thought while she was distracted I’d set the record straight.

Why there was a delay between yesterday’s post and the Visual Aid

After posting to my world famous blog yesterday evening I decided to take a break and watch Biggest Loser.   Heading through the hallway from my office to the den I pass the downstairs bathroom (home of Cat’s litter box).  The last thing I remember is gagging, my eyes watering – it was overpowering – I thought perhaps it was mustard gas – and next I knew it was morning and I was waking on the hallway floor, a huge bump on my head.

Slide 1.2 A Sweet Run, Visual

The Sweet Spot

You don’t hit the sweet spot on runs most of the time, or at least I don’t. Usually something hurts or is at least uncomfortable, or it’s hot or cold or dry or wet weather, or your sock has a lump or your brain decided to be totally mental — you know how it goes.

I expect most runners feel the way I do: few runs are horrid and most runs are good; you feel good that you did it, you were happy with the pace or it accomplished a training goal, but the perfect run seldom happens – and doesn’t need to. I run to run, not to find perfection in myself, my run or the world. If I got up and ran then it was a good run. For me the perfect run is not the one I PR’d or which had no pain, for me the perfect run is the run that feels like I am flying floating in a world of golden sunshine, running without effort in a world with which I feel at one, completely present to each moment because I let go of the run and just began to be. Last time I had a run like that was last November so it’s not something that happens often.

I’ve also been putting on some extra miles in my training and most runs lately have been on legs that are tiring out pretty quickly, which means I’m really not expecting Nirvana to come knocking. Yesterday I putzed a bit in the house, got a little work done while waiting for the sun to come up and then headed out in the pretty day — and immediately I was in the sweet spot. I was at a mile before I felt I’d even touched pavement. I knew where I was on my course but stared at my Garmin in disbelief, it felt I’d been running for a minute. My feet seemed to have feathers, floating just off the ground; I felt calm and centered, my form felt great and my stride was good; it was sweet head to toe, and it was sweet the entire run. It was the run we all pursue but only occasionally catch.

Since everything about the run was perfect I found that I had plenty of time to think of things besides pace, pain and gasping for air.

~ Uranus. Does anyone in the scientific world really think that kids are going to start pronouncing it yur’-uh-ness? I bet kids still giggle at he-she-it too.

~ how dumb was I that I never understood why he-she-it was funny until I was in my 20’s?

~ for that matter, how dumb was I that I never understood why Uranus was funny until I was in my 20’s?

~ 2, 4 & 5. When I was little some numbers had colors and personalities. Two was my favorite. It was strong, self-composed and secure. It was blue. Five was like the star of an old movie, the strong silent type that always looked out for the underdog. I can’t remember what color it was. Maybe brown or green. Four, however, was just a red bitch. Plain and simple, she hated two and liked five and that was the end of the story. I never did figure out why.

~ the teacher had no clue either

~ and why did the teacher look at me like that when I asked?

~ how bad does something have to smell before a dog is offended?

~ why, when my cat finds a smell offensive, does she look at me? Has she been anywhere near her litter box lately? I know who should be offended and it’s not her.

~ and what is a smell anyway? Is it atoms that stink?

~ baby carrots at the grocery. Did someone really pick all those itty-bitty carrots? And then did they peel every single one of them? Or did they pick bigger carrots, shave off the excess, put that in the bag of coleslaw mix and just pretend the remaining part is baby carrots?

~ and, yet, I continue to pay extra for the baby carrots

~ if you can’t put metal in a microwave then how is it that they all come with a metal wire rack in the middle?

~ do the waves really stay inside the microwave? Do they see the door and say – oops, that’s it, end of the line?

~ if so, then why do radio waves get a free pass?

~ I bet someone in the world CAN touch their nose with their elbow.

~ if people do spontaneously combust, does Karma take nominations?

~ when I was in kindergarten and the Vietnam war was escalating and we had bomb drills (oh, yeah, now you know I’m old) did the teachers really think if I hid under that itty-bitty desk and the bomb landed on the school building and then the bomb, the floor above me and the roof above that floor all came down through the ceiling, that somehow that itty-bitty desk was going to remain intact and protect me?

~ if the teacher did believe that, why was I being taught by idiots?

~ Two was me. Four was also me.

Running is Community

“Running is not, as it so often seems, only about what you did in your last race or about how many miles you ran last week. It is, in a much more important way, about community, about appreciating all the miles run by other runners, too.” — Richard O’Brien

I have the Dream Job of dream jobs working from home part time for our local running club (shameless plug: www.memphisrunners.com ).  I’m incredibly proud of our club; with over 2,000 households (3,100 members)  – and a file full of memberships to post sitting on my desk right now – we are one of the largest member clubs in the RRCA.  In spring, 2010 MRTC was awarded the 2012 RRCA National Convention which will be held here in March.  We have over 95 events on our annual calendar, about 60-65 are races with which we contract to provide finish services (this is our club income).  Our club events include a twice a year KIDS! Run training program (recipient of a $1,000 grant from RRCA), a 10-week beginning women runner’s program (2010 Beginning Program award, RRCA), a 10-week Road Race Series consisting of two runs per month, July-November (5k building up to ½ marathon) with 1,367 full series participants in 2011, and a four-race Winter Cross Country series which proceeds go to a scholarship at the University of Memphis.  This means a whole lot of runners and a whole lot of community!

*whew* if you got tired reading that…I’m pooped!  AND – all of this is done completely by volunteers.  Any of the club events listed above are also volunteer hours for me except the time I spend working at home on administrative details.  Every bit – volunteers.  Some of them aren’t even runners!  Maybe they’re on the DL, or they used to run but joints quit or knees blew out, or they don’t run but their spouse/child/friend does.  Nearly every weekend of the year these people get up early, leave their houses in the dark and show up to work races for other runners.  Some of them will work the race, run the race and then work the race again afterward.  If the race starts at 7am the core team is there around 5am, and if the race is over at 8am the core team will be there for another 1-1/2 hours or so.  Volunteers take results home to compile; general turn-around on results is under 24 hours into the newspaper and online.  All – you guessed it – volunteer.  And after the race everyone that can goes to EAT FOOD!  That’s community!

Between the several thousand members, the 60+ race directors and the general public it could be assumed that we would frequently deal with some pretty cranky people.  And we do occasionally get some pretty hot emails.  But the truth is, runners are just nice people.  I can never decide if runners are nice because they run, or if nice people seem drawn to running.

My blessings thread themselves through the day.  I’m alone most of the day, but I do not feel alone.  I have a community that is literally worldwide.  I get to manage both our Women Run/Walk Memphis FB page and the MRTC FB page; personally I’m involved in a 1212 in 2012 FB challenge and the enthusiasm and support on those pages is unwavering  – Thumbs up and Way to Go! and you can do it!  Awesome job!  I’ve been there!  — constantly challenging each other and uplifting each other.

Runners are community.  They are community when they are running – but they remain community when they go home.  Runners live their lives as runners, they are defined by it.  I may be slow, I may be on the DL, I may just be coming back, but being a Runner defines me as much as being a mother or a wife or a friend.  It’s not just what I do, it’s what I am.  So when I’m here in my guest room at the MRTC headquarters I’m not here alone, I’m here with the running community that exists worldwide.

And just so you don’t feel to bad for me in my lonely garret surrounded by pizza boxes and 3-day-old half drank Diet Cokes, here’s a pic of my loyal support staff, Murph The Dog and Chunk The Kitten:

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