Rosie: The Dog Determined To Live (Part I)

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On Saturday, March 10th, I was driving home after a run when, about 10 miles from my house, out on Highway 220, I saw a small dog in the median, tail wagging. It had already made it across two lanes of traffic and had two more to go. 

"No, no, no, stay put," I mentally willed the dog as I looked for a place to turn around. 

Too late. I looked in my rear view mirror and watched the dog dart into traffic. She was hit by a van doing about 60 mph and did a rolling flip-flop underneath it, coming to rest to in the middle of the road.

The vans and the cars around the van kept driving. 

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Open Up! It's The Police

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It is 10:16 pm on Sunday night. The events I'm about to relay happened approximately 8 minutes ago. 

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Blair and I were in bed. Blair was asleep but I'd been reading and had only just turned out the light. (Side note: I didn't realize Blair was asleep as he'd grasped my hand underneath the pillow once I lay down, a small gesture I found touching until--as I was soon to realize--it was purely reflexive or, perhaps knowing me and my personality, unconsciously defensive on his part.) 

I was drifting off to dreamland when BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM. Pounding on our door jerked my head up off the pillow. I didn't even have time to form the mental question of "Who is that?" before our doorbell started ringing. 

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No Exercise For 1 Week: Place Your Bets

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So. It seems my body is falling apart, piece by piece. It started two weeks ago with a sprained lower back muscle, moved into bicipital tendonitis in my right shoulder, progressed to a rolled left ankle with accompanying shin pain, and has morphed into a bruised muscle on the opposite side of my back, side stitch, and muscle spasm in my left arm. 

To say the least, something isn't right. Today's 10-mile run cemented that fact when I was practically unable to bend over to pick up Gatorade at the water stop, had to keep my body in straight alignment with zero twisting so as not to cause back spasms, and still had such a strong sensation of a bruised rib that I almost quit the run halfway through. 

I may be thick, but I can take the hint.

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Face Plant In The Dirt

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Wild Turkey Trail in Greensboro, NCI've started a weekly trail run with a friend. Yesterday was our third run together and we were both pretty tired. Me because I'd done 5 miles of speed work the day before, and Kathi because she'd raced (and won her age group) that weekend. 

Here's the trick to trail running: You have to pick your feet up. Sounds obvious, but...

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