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 “funk”

Perspective

I woke this morning still tired, still coughing, still sniffing, and still not running on day 12 of the Cold from Hell.  I did a bit on the treadmill at Killer’s on Friday but had to keep slowing so I could hack up more of my insides.  We have a huge yard for which I’m extremely grateful, the beauty, the trees, birds and squirrels, very blessed.  We spent two hours yesterday raking leaves and got about 1/20th of the yard done.  Today is the last nice weather for most of the week and I will not be doing yardwork as I have to work.  I’m going to be doing the damn leaves until May.  Hubs’ idea of doing leaves is vacuuming up the stuff in the flat part of the yard with the mower and filling a garbage can weekly, sometimes getting a couple extra bags filled if he has enough time.  His spare time weekly totals about 3 hours so you can see that at that rate we’ll be done doing the 2013 leaves in about 2018.  I’m watching my body age and change and I don’t like it.  I don’t like how clothes fit differently.  I don’t like that everything is sliding slowly, inexorably, toward the floor.  I don’t like feeling even more tired even more often.  Hubs asks, why are you so tired?  I DON’T KNOW.  The cat is peeing in that spot on the carpet again which indicates the UTI is no better or she’s stuck in a bad habit.  Since she’s also bogarting the floor heating vent I’m going with the UTI.  I don’t know what else to do.  I keep a huge towel in the spot, the only compromise I can come up with unless I throw the cat away, which some people might suggest but it kinda goes against my personal theology to throw away living things which fail to meet my expectations, although I will indulge my occasional and extremely poor coping mechanism of throwing several very loud F bombs around the house.  This probably only serves to create more peeing when I scare the cat with my screaming so there’s another fail.

I am stuck in a funk.

The idea of coaxing anyone out of a funk by showing them evidence that someone else definitely has it worse is, to me, ineffective.  If you are having a bad day, you’re having a bad day.  Who knows what else is going on in someone’s life?  Who knows what else is going on my life?  (Right, not a very good personal argument since I spew my life all over the interworldweb like I currently spew coughs, but we’ll assume a lot of people do have things in their lives about which we are not aware.)

However….

This is my friend’s son:

Cancer patient and avid golfer Kevin Bezon, 28, has grown too weak to stand, but he doesn’t regret the many things he can no longer do ….Doctors have found more tumors on the lining of the brain that are resisting chemotherapy, but Kevin told his father, Ron Bezon, in December that his body is tired, and he doesn’t want another surgery. His father said, “He’s almost at end-of-life care.”

This article is copyrighted by the Commercial Appeal and I’ve linked the article in the quote above.

I’m not much of one to ask people to donate money, however, if you are currently considering supporting St. Jude, please consider doing so through Kevin’s page.

Meanwhile I’m going to get things ready for today’s race.  I’m going to wear my Adidas to the race and I’m going to get a little jog in this sunny day while the runners are out on the course.  If I have to stop and cough a bunch of crap out, tough sh*t.  When I get home I will rake leaves for whatever daylight remains.  The cat can pee on the towel, we’ll all live through it, and I will once again move the towel 6 inches closer to the litter box every couple days until she’s back using the box; it will probably cost about a minute of my life.

11:15am update:  Heading to the race site.  When I first looked at Kevin’s page he was 12% of goal; he is currently 16% of goal!

5:45pm update:  He’s at 25% of goal!

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Cooooffffffffeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…… Endorphinnnnnnnnnnnnsssss

I had not realized until I returned from Arizona after my father’s funeral how much I’d been focused, in the past year, on constantly getting the most important things done as much as possible in case I had to leave in a hurry again, and leaving everything else for later.  Now that I’m also newly resolved not to work weekends I find I’m enjoying things a bit more.  I don’t feel so overwhelmed and I am energized about cleaning out drawers, closets, piles of paper I’ve stuck in a corner, the shoes I threw in the closet and whose laces have now intermarried (which makes me sound like a potential candidate for Hoarders but truly it wasn’t that bad.  No towers of newspapers have crushed any family members or pets).

It’s been interesting.  I’ve found I never ordered child #4’s college graduation pics.  Do you think it’s too late now?  I need never buy another pair of nail clippers, tweezers or scissors. And THAT’S where my daytimer is.  Maybe it will be more useful now that I know where it is.

Update on Chunker:  SHE USED THE LITTER BOX.  Then: SHE USED IT AGAIN.  And she repeated the process repeatedly!!  YAY!  So guess what.  I’m leaving town again Tuesday through Saturday and that will probably throw her back over the edge.  I’m hoping #4 isn’t too upset about the unordered grad pics since he’s house sitting and I need to convince him to spray the pheromones everywhere, which will probably cause his eyeballs to roll so far back into his head that I’ll have to smack him so he can see again; he’s not really into catering to animals.  He thinks we’re supposed to be in charge, not the dog or cat.  I keep telling him I am in charge but he doesn’t seem to believe me.

Just a second, I have to go give the dog a cookie, be right back.

OK, I’m back.  By the way, while I was in the kitchen I decided I wanted an orange.  It was reeeeeellllly good.  Yum.  Murphy likes oranges too.  He waits beside me while I eat it so he can have 1/2 of the last section, which I always save for him.  So anyway for some reason my kids all think I spoil the animals which I think is extremely cynical of them.  Hopefully #4 won’t be so cynical that he won’t spray the pheromones.  Also he’ll have to let her sleep with him.  And Murphy too.  They both need to sleep with him so they don’t get lonely.  Speaking of animals, #3 offspring has this habit, when you’re out somewhere with him and he wants to get your attention, he whistles for you just like you were a dog, that dog calling whistle, you know?  And it’s so irritating because every. single. time. I turn when he whistles.  And then – he laughs.  dammit.

Since I was in a funk yesterday I kept thinking, “I don’t want to do that”  “I don’t want to do that, either” so I made myself take the pile of little naggly stuff that needs to be done, and none of it will take more than 5-10 minutes, but you’re doing something else right now so you’ll do it next and finally the pile is like 3″ tall and now it’s looking at you going nanner nanner nanner you need to take care of me and you think, stupid pile of stuff to do, I HATE you.  Then you realize you just said I hate you to an inanimate pile of paper, which is something you should probably definitely not bring up with the doctor at your next physical, so you decide to go eat a nice sweet juicy orange to feel better.  And this is why, when you return to your desk the next morning, the creepy pile is still sitting there making weird eyes at you like that money used to do in that Geico commercial.

But this time I looked it straight in the eyeballs, pulled it over to me and started working from the top down.  YAY!  No more creepy To Do pile staring at me!!  Great feeling of accomplishment.  I was so energized that I went to Lowe’s and bought some plants.  That was fun.  This morning I putzed on the patio and got them all in pots.  Now on top of spraying pheromones everywhere #4 is going to have to water my plants.  And I wonder why none of my children have ever wanted to come back home to live.

I’ve been thinking I haven’t posted any drawings on my world-famous blog lately and I bet both of you, my faithful followers, are pretty sad.  I bet it’s pretty much ruined everything for you and I want to exhort you to please get out of bed, take a shower and put on some clean clothes and cheer up because while cleaning out things, I found a post I’d written in January and drew a picture for but never posted.  So now you can read a blog that is five months old.  But just think about those days in January when it was so cold outside.  That will make us all feel better tomorrow morning on our run when it’s 90 degrees and 50% humidity.

Ciao!  Gonna go vacuum!! FUN!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

4am and the cat is on my head.

The hubs has sometimes indicated that he does not believe I am an optimistic person.  I refute that.  Anyone that can spend the last 6 months going to bed every single night thinking surely this is the night that the cat will not be on my head at 4am tomorrow has to be an optimist.  Or too lazy to put the cat out of the bedroom, but I refute that too.

4:39am and I surrender.  Cat has the tenacity of a two-year-old after another cookie.  If I have to get up and carry her down two flights of stairs I will be wide awake and unable to go back to sleep anyway sooooo……

I get up and, in the dark, put on the first clothes I can reach which feel like pants and a shirt (later, downstairs, I notice that today I am looking 4:39am Fine in my rocking awesome plaid fleece bell bottoms, an XL flannel shirt and inside out Thorlos in Nike slides – I don’t know, I like them inside out –  later hubs mentions I might look a bit like I’m homeless – this time of day I should look like I’m Miss America with a cat on my head?) and I head for the stairs.

Immediately I trip over Cat who is bouncing up and down the steps in glee and joy Crunchies Crunchies Crunchies spinspinspin in happy circles Crunchies MOM Crunchies MOMMOMMOM.  Having done this every day since she learned to go up the stairs you’d think by now I’d remember to look for her under my feet.  But this is pre-caffeine and we’re all just happy I’m still breathing which, if it weren’t a reflex, I might also forget.

I visit the Shrine of Mr. Coffee, Oh Great Coffee Maker that I love, you Grinder of Beans, you Haven of dark steaming caffeine goodness, you.  Pour rich blackness into my favorite handmade mug, spinninghungryCrunchiesCRUNCHIES!PAIN!ANXIETY! Cat now desperate for food before she dies, underfoot and climbing my leg in desperation I’m starving NOW!MOM!  I turn toward the stairs and she is off, a blur of calico doing 90 to her food dish.  Crunchies finally in her bowl, safe from starvation for another day and I rock.

At 5am in January it’s dark and it’s cold and while I know others that run outside this time of the morning, I’m bagging it and going to the Y and run the hamster track.  You can catch endorphins inside as easily as you can outside.  They vary in size, but the effect is the same.  Inside endorphins are smaller and more densely packed in the atmosphere of a gym; they don’t have as much space so they can’t grow as large, but since they are more densely populated you end up with the same effect.  Outdoor endorphins, on the other hand, are larger but also spaced further apart – they have room to grow and to roam.  You can see that the end result is the same:  fewer large endorphins or more small endorphins.

I fire up the iPod and hit the track, sympathizing with Pink that someone’s gonna get in a fight and I’m feeling the legs loosen up, my lungs opening, stride starting to smooth out.  I shake out my hands and loosen my shoulders while I visit with Credence down on the corner and by the second mile Lady Gaga and I are discussing her bad romance while endorphins start sticking to me.  I think highly of anyone who runs or walks or walk/runs or whatever they do for fitness – but the guy running in front of me is much younger than I and for some reason today that irritates me.  I don’t want him in front of me being all young.   However: miles 3 & 4 are slated for some intervals and soon I’m flying past, striding to Blitzkrieg Bop and thinking that I may be closer to 60 than 50 but I can pass your a– I mean, I can pass you up.  Two miles of intervals and I have a bunch more endorphins stuck all over me, I think I’ve even got some in my hair.  Two mile cool down, some Motown pops up and I give ear to the Temptations talking about their girl.  By the time I’m done I’ve got endorphins clustered all over the place and they are buzzing.  Grab some coffee at the counter and head home to the day –

Coffee and Endorphins, Breakfast of Champions.

Here’s a nice picture of endorphins in case you don’t know what they look like:

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