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”

When good runs go bad.

Monday morning.  Trolling the internet for inspirational stuff to post to the Women’s Run FB page and the MRTC FB page I came across this poster at, suddenly reminding me of Sunday’s run, which I thought I’d successfully filed away in the Never Remember Again file.

It all started Saturday night when the hubs and I and a mess of running friends (‘mess of’ is southern for a bunch.  like a ‘mess of greens’ is a pot of turnip greens.  not that my running friends resemble a pot of turnip greens, I didn’t mean that, this is going south fast.) (Wait! hahahaha ‘south’! ‘turnip greens’! that’s funny) had the joy of celebrating the marriage of two long-time running friends.  The food was awesome – vegetarian, Vietnamese and a meat table for the carnivores; so not to insult anyone I forced myself to eat a couple of everything.   And maybe a glass or two of wine altho I swear there was never any danger I was actually going to set that tablecloth on fire.  I knew what I was doing.

After the mess of us had some wine we thought it was incredibly funny to do the YMCA together on the dance floor.  Then we all did a little bit of Everybody Dance Now and basically we didn’t Stop ‘Til We Got Enough.  At some point between not setting the tablecloth on fire – I knew what I was doing – and all the dancing I apparently agreed to run with my friend Sayruh Goodie Two Shoes the next morning.  At 7am.  Because?  I am an idiot.  She’s younger.  She’s faster.  And she always looks good.   I soothed myself with the knowledge that she was doing 6 at 6am first (hopefully using up some of her energy) then I was joining her for her last 12 and would pick up my final two on the end.

It was another grey January day, in the 40’s but windy and very damp as we headed out.

talktalk running talktalk wedding

take windbreaker off *urp* that was a lot of food last night

put windbreaker back on

talktalk food *urp* stuffed peppers and guacamole

take windbreaker off

*urp* why does Sara keep talking about that food *urp*

water stop thank you baby Jesus in your crib the bathroom is open

put windbreaker on

talktalk races why is Sara ahead of me?

run faster while struggling to get windbreaker off, which is stuck inside out on my Garmin

talktalk life talktalk kids talktalk food (OMG SHUT UP ABOUT THE FOOD)

phoooo INhale EXhale INhale EXhale *urp*

fword fudge she’s ahead of me again.

diversionary tactics.  I see MONEY!

Sara stops.  I can’t actually bend over but she scoops up 55 cents.  Standing still never felt so good.

breathe breathe breathe (I wish I had more money on me, this worked better than expected)

I realize that Sara looks sort of like this:

fword fear.

Distract myself.  look at that cool tree with no leaves!

Oh, look, another cool tree with no leaves!

Cool tree with no leaves!

For the love of all that’s holy, NONE OF THE TREES HAVE LEAVES!  IT’S JANUARY!

fword fast Sara’s ahead again.  run faster *urp*

um.  OH!  Pink house! distract Sara.  Gawd that’s an ugly house.

fword Fffffffffffffffudge another HILL and there she goes…

Ox.Y.Gen.  focus top of hill top of hill top of hill do not fall down.

TOP OF HILL! the air really is a lot thinner here on Mt. Everest.

Water stop thank you baby Jesus in your little wooden crib there’s a bathroom.

Put windbreaker back on.

We got every single damn stoplight green.  We crossed railroad tracks three times and not once did we have to wait for a train.  None of the cars passing bothered to slightly run me over.  You cannot purchase oxygen at corner gas stations.  Probably if you could they would refuse to sell it to me because my legs are on fire and apparently oxygen and open flames are not a good mix.  This is what the last mile looked like:

I joined the group at McDonald’s, always a good place to meet after near death experiences.  But I did not get any pancakes.

I have an inexplicable urge to move my seat within 6 inches of the steering wheel, put on some Barry Manilow and drive slowly to Denny’s to get my AARP 20% discount and $1 coffee.

This is what I looked like getting my paper before I learned of Les Baxter and His Orchestra

This is what I look like getting my newspaper after learning about Les Baxter and His Orchestra.

Sammy Hagar, Les Baxter, and me.

Well this day totally sucks.

Until today I had no clue who Les Baxter is.  But then some idiot created a Facebook app that figures out the top hit on the day you were born and suddenly this afternoon Les Baxter entered my life.

It couldn’t be AC/DC doing Dirty Deeds Dirt Cheap.

Not Guns ‘N Roses Welcoming us to The Jungle.

Mom couldn’t wait 3 more days and I could have at least had an Elvis song at number one even tho Elvis does nothing for me (and I do realize this is blasphemy in Memphis and I could be hauled over the county line on a rope behind a pickup truck) still, he beats the hell out of Les Baxter on the musical Thrill-O-Meter.

No, not even Elvis.  I get some guy directing an orchestra and a bunch of people whistling in the middle of the stupid song.  The only lyrics in the insipid thing is lalalalala and luhluhluhluh.  Whistling and luhluhluhing.

In one minute your life goes crashing about your head.

All these years There’s Only One Way to Rock defined your life.

But no.  You were born when the best music in the country was a vapid luhluhluh.

I don’t even feel like trying out my walker with the new tennis balls now.

I’m so depressed, I’m not going to bother putting in my dentures.

I don’t care that my best apron is in the laundry and I can’t wear it to Bingo at the community center tonight.

Heck, I might not even go to Bingo.

I may just stay home and watch Lawrence Welk while I drink my prune juice.  Maybe Bobby Burgess and Cissy King will be dancing tonight.  That would be great.  If I turn up the sound enough I should be able to hear the music.

Afterward I’ll crochet some doilies to put on the arms of my sofa.

Later I’ll smooth on some Noxema and get to bed.  By then it will be 7:30, late night but I’m crazy wild that way and it is Friday.

Probably I”ll lull myself to sleep whistling luhluhluhluh.

Here, in case you’re an insomniac you can listen, too:

I’ve gotta go find my Geritol.

All two of my followers have spoken in defense of January

Poor maligned January, it is actually a home to many happy events: marriages, babies, birthdays; it is a rest stop between the busy-ness of the holidays and the rush of spring, a harbinger of the new growth to come, a time of reflection and renewal.  This makes me very happy because I felt sad for January.  I felt it had gotten the short end of the deal but now I realize that January, just as everything in this world, has it’s time and it’s place.  And so I have created a piece of art to honor January that I shall name … JANUARY.

If I were a month I would be any month but January.

I think being January would be kinda like being the kid in 5th grade whose mom wouldn’t let them shave their legs and made them still wear bobby socks with their Keds and wouldn’t buy them a bra because why would you spend good money on something you don’t need?  Not that I know what that would be like.  I’m just guessing.  From books I read.  About nerds like Harry Potter.

No one looks forward to January except moms, and that’s only because the winter holidays are finally over thank gawd and the kids are going back to school.  No one runs around shouting  YAY!  January!  Picnics!  Vacations!  Holidays!   The only holiday in January is Martin Luther King Day, and no offense to a great man but do you want the only famous day in your month to be a dead guy?  February – which has the same identical crappy weather as January – at least gets Valentine’s Day.  And the Super Bowl.  Even the Super Bowl doesn’t like January.

If January were a color it would be grey.  Steel grey, molten grey, heather grey, blue grey, grey grey.  The trees are kinda grey, even the last few dead leaves are brown grey, hanging there, taunting homeowners, “Nanner Nanner I’m not going to fall!  HAHAHAHA!  Rake those other leaves!  Shake your fist at me!  I’m not leaving!”  Not that I ever feel that way, that leaves are taunting me.

January has about 6 hours of daylight per day.  Sure, ‘they’ say the shortest day is in December (SEE?  January doesn’t get that, either) but – and who are ‘they’ anyway?  Did you ever see a picture of ‘they’?  Where do ‘they’ live?  Who put ‘they’ in charge?  Huh? – but anyway I’d like to see anyone prove it.  It’s dark when I get up, it’s dark when I get dressed, it’s still dark when I make coffee.  It’s dark in the afternoon and every day I think, OMGosh where did the time go I have to make dinner it must be 6pm and it’s only 4:20.  And there I was all panicked because maybe I thought I’d been playing that crossword game for four hours but really it was only 1-1/2 hours and it’s not 6pm yet so I still have time to make dinner before the hubs thinks I’m a slug.  Not that I actually play crossword games for four hours.  I’m just guessing that some people do.

I feel sorry for January.  Probably what happened when God decided to make months is that during Story Time January was just sitting there minding it’s own business when suddenly the kid in front of him was like talktalktalk and January said Hush, and the kid said talktalktalk and January said Be Quiet, and the kid said talktalktalk and January said HUSH up! and then the teacher made January sit in the corner for talking.  So that made January late and it was last in line and that was the only month left by then.  And January probably didn’t tell his mom he got set in the corner until he was like 23 years old.  Altho I’m just guessing.

Also January is the month that all the people who ate way too much food since mid-November decided they would quit eating food and join the gym and swim and run and cycle and go to yoga and lose 43 pounds.  So by the end of the month all anyone remembers about January is that they are so sore they cannot stand, sit, lie or walk and they didn’t lose a damn pound and they spent $399.99 for the mutherdamn gym membership.  Altho I did not do that.  I’m just guessing.

So anyway, when you’re sitting at the desk paying bills in January thinking about all the damn money someone spent on something they don’t need and keep writing 2011 instead of 2012 and having to cross out the damn check and start over, just take a minute to think about January and how sad it would be if you were January.

Long Run

Recovery Run

Long Run vs. Recovery Run


Scene:  Bedroom  Time: 4:30am  Day: Sunday


mfff? Oh yeah, 16 on the books, sweet.

Make coffee, check weather.  29 degrees.  Oh, well, at least it’s going to be sunny.

Focused:  fuel, check.  Garmin, check.  RoadID, check.  all systems go.

6:30am, everyone in the parking lot, 6:30:01, everyone heading out.

talktalk kids talktalk training talktalk races talktalk food.  Oh, look at the beautiful sunrise!  All sigh and smile at the beauty of the world.

30 minutes later, Whoa – we’re at 3 miles already, good job!

talktalk kids talktalk training talktalk races talktalk cheeseburger.  extra pickles and mayo.  greasy cheeseburger.  sweet potato fries.  beer.  I’ve always thought this part of the trail is so pretty.

30 minutes later, awesome!  nearly half done, 6 miles, another 6 and then four and BAM I’m outta here, sweet!

talk talk kids talktalk training talktalk races talk talk cheeseburger.  extra pickles and mayo.  greasy cheeseburger.  sweet potato fries.  beer. hot fudge sundae.  Oh look at that beautiful bird!  Stand in awe and wonder at the glory of creation.

30 minutes later, sahweet – 9!  man, it’s in the bag

talk talk kids talktalk training talktalk races talk talk cheeseburger.  extra pickles and mayo.  greasy cheeseburger.  sweet potato fries.  beer.  hot fudge sundae!  Taco Bell!  STEAK!  Oh, man!  That’s a hawk!  Incredible!

30 minutes later: TAH-WELVE! hello, big 12-O,  Hello car!  I’m looping the trail, back in a few!

talk talk kids talktalk training talktalk races talk talk cheeseburger.  extra pickles and mayo.  greasy cheeseburger.  sweet potato fries.  beer.  hot fudge sundae!  Taco Bell!  STEAK!  BAKED POTATOES!  PASTA!  I love watching the ducks on the pond, they make me laugh.

45 minutes later: Dang!  Only 10am!  16 in the books!  happy happy.


Scene:  Bedroom  Time: 6:30am  Day: Monday

mff?  Monday.  it’s Monday.  cool, that’s cool.  nothing speci..crap.  I’ve gotta do three today.  dammit

Stumble to coffee pot.  empty.  crap.  make coffee.  coffeecoffeecoffee gulp.  burn tongue.  dammit

Check weather.  57 degrees.  CLOUDY.  dammit.

Focused:  I’ll just check email first.  probably should scope out FB.  and Dailymile.  Oh, look, cute puppy vid.  Oh, look, another cute puppy vid.   hahaha that’s funny, kitten Star Wars.  crap, it’s 8:30, I didn’t eat breakfast yet.  dammit.

Focused:  where’s my RoadID?  where’s my jacket?  where’s my hat?  where’s my shoes?  dammit.

Walk glumly out of house.  return to house.  left garmin downstairs on desk.  Oh, look – a post on FB.  hahaha that’s funny my friend’s cat is in a pile of torn up toilet paper!  I wonder if … ah, crap, I have got to get this run done dammit.

Walk glumly out of house.  stumble to end of street.  crap.  I don’t want to go that way.  I’ll go that way instead.  crap.  I forgot how hilly this street is.  dammit.

12 minutes later, OMG I’m at .64 of a mile!  this is going to take FOREVER.  I have stuff to do.  I’m wasting my whole day.  dammit.

That’s a really ugly house.

15 minutes later, .73  dammit

Is that a snake?  I hate snakes.

20  minutes later, .89  dammit

That bird is chirping so loud it’s head is going to explode.  hahaha that’s funny.  exploding bird head.  feathers flying.  wish it would explode, stupid bird.

25 minutes later buzz buzz FINALLY ONE MILE.  dammit.

If I ever walk to get the paper in a bathrobe and tennis shoes will someone please just shoot me.

37 minutes later, CahRAP.  1.43.  dammit.

If my dog barked all day like that I’d duct tape it’s stupid mouth shut.


People who drive cars like that are stupid.

53 minutes later, 2.36.  I’m going to die doing this run.  I’m going to die of old age doing this damn run dammit.


73 minutes later, this damn Garmin.  It’s got to be broken.  I have to have run 27 miles by now, not 2.7, dammit.


96 minutes later, buzz buzz 3 miles.



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