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.

Talk to me, baby. Never mind, shut up.

Day Three on the Medrol Dose Pack.  Things are going well.

Do your appliances talk?  Mine do.  Right now my washing machine is; oddly it’s saying “get-me-a-turkey-get-me-a-turkey” very rapidly with the syllables allruntogether.  This is the first time it has asked for food.

My dishwasher is rather boring and appears stuck in a rut, all it ever says is “waash-aaahhhh-waash-aaahhhh” with the “aaahhhh” a bit of a sigh ending on a slightly higher note – but then it’s an old one; if it were a person it would be a grumpy man past retirement age working at WalMart handing out smiley faces to sticky faced, snot nosed little kids: “Here, then *sighhhhh*.”  Maybe the kid drops its sticker and the sticky quits working.  The kid wants another one.  This is an incredible inconvenience for Mr. Sticker Man, just as washing the dishes without breaking them is for my dishwasher, which has broken every piece of stemware I have, five of six glass tumblers, and has melted several pieces of Rubbermaid just for show.  Or lack of interest, I can’t decide which.  I believe every dishwasher has a finite life span and a certain number of washes before it’s washed up.  I’m running it three times a day, now.  Don’t tell the hubs.

So anyway, today I got up at 4am and worked the 10 miler at Shelby Forest (it was kinda cold but, hey, cold…hot…you’re gonna pretty much get one of the two) which took until 11am.  I had three cups of coffee on the way to the race.  OK, one at the house, two in the car, along with a Prednisone, as directed.

After the race started I helpfully cheered on the runners.  First I trotted over to mile one.






Then I trotted across the parking lot to mile 4.  (It’s a loop course.  I cheated.  But, then, I was running in Uggs so I didn’t think I needed to go for distance.)

Which, by the way, I don’t think are nearly as Uggly as my kids seem to think they are.  Wait ’til they’re old enough for hot flashes and cold feet at the same time.  Things will begin to look real different.  I’ll be long gone by then, of course, so payback will suck since I basically won’t get any.

But, then, that’s payback, too, so Karma is even again.






Then I trotted over to the top of the switchbacks, lovingly referred to as The  Beast.  I’m not kidding, #6 male coming up the Beast walked a flat spot.  The Beast Roars.  But in the end, it is conquered.

This time I don’t fool around, you don’t mess with The Beast or Karma will move up one point.






Unfortunately a couple of people asked me where the donuts were and I had to admit there were none.  This made them sad.  So, I added helpfully ‘YOU CAN GET SOME AT THE GENERAL STORE!!”

Finally the last runner was in and I drove home.  It wasn’t really that cold, mid 40’s, maybe 50 by the end of the race, but we were in the damp shade of the old forest and we were all pretty chilled.  I drove the 40 minutes home with the heater on high the entire way.

I was still chilled when I got home but before emptying the hot water heater I needed to get a couple of files emailed for the newsletter, so I had a nice hot cup of Coconut Mocha to warm up, and another Prednisone (as directed on the packaging) while I worked.

Then I thought, I’m kinda sleepy so I tried to take a nap but every 5 minutes Brain would say, “GOOD JOB RUNNNNNNNNNNNNERS!”

Or, “Goooooooo IRISH!!!”



Yeah?  No Sh*t Sherlock.

Finally I caved and got cleaned up.  Then I had some noodles.  Love me some noodles.  Then I did laundry, and I thought I should straighten the closet so I re-arranged all my shoes (I’m missing one slipper, by the way.   Light blue.) and I straightened up my clothes so they’d all be in order by color, which some of them had gotten out-of-order.

Hubs’ desk was a bit messy so I fixed that all up.  Bet he’ll never find a file again, won’t he be happy.

All the magazines were crooked, too.  Not good.

Dusted the entire house.  Did more laundry.  Washed some clean stuff –  it was kinda wrinkled.

Cleaned off my desk, too, so Karma would be kind to me in view of the cleaning of hubs’ desk.

Did a bunch of filing, sorted my Sookie Crackhouse books in order, put all the phones back on the correct chargers and found all the television remotes.

Now I need to quit typing.  I need to go find something else that’s crooked and fix it.

OH – it’s also time for another cortisone pill!  YAY!!  I cannot, for the life of me, remember why I didn’t want to take the dose pack.  Crazy.

Maybe I should go ahead and start sanding the stairs tonight.  I’ve been trying to find a good time for that.

Never mind.  Brain thinks power tools aren’t a good idea right now.  I don’t know what that’s about, but Brain suggested we watched all the recorded TV shows in numeric order so I’m good with that.  If you have 36 episodes of Dr. Who recorded, and some are duplicates, can you skip the dups?

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3 thoughts on “Talk to me, baby. Never mind, shut up.

  1. lol…nothing like a run of predisone…

  2. Carole Chapple on said:

    Lololol, prednisone – can you send some over?? My son used to literally climb the walls when on that for his asthma!!

    • terrileeclarke on said:

      I’d hate to make anyone else suffer – OMG I cannot imagine dealing with a kid on it! Today is the 5th day so the mean has set in and I’m growling at everything. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR 😉

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