Week 3, Day 5

I didn’t get a chance to run yesterday because my car is dead, and I didn’t feel like walking back up the mountain after tackling another day of Week 3. My sister came over this evening, so I was able to run. She brought her dog, Meathead with, so she drove us all (me, her, Meatie, Tank) to the track at around 6:30. There was something going on at the school because there were kids all over the playground. There was also a couple playing tennis at the court up the hill at the east side of the track.

Sis sat in the grass with the boys while I ran. Considering all the distractions going on, not to mention how incredibly late it was, I was actually pretty focused on the run. It wasn’t until I started the second round of 90/90 that things got shaky. A pair of teenagers walked onto the track ahead of me and stopped to look at something with binoculars. I had my headphones down low, as usual, and about ten seconds after I passed them, I could hear them clomping up behind me. They ran around me, both of them waving their arms and legs around like nut jobs. The girl looked back and waved her hands at her ears, laughing and saying, ”Oh, she can’t even hear us.” So I’m pretty sure they were making fun of me. Why, I have no idea. I don’t run like Phoebe.

At any rate, I couldn’t have cared less. I just kept going. Except when I started my three minute run, the teenagers were ahead of me again, this time with three other kids. And they were all standing in my lane. I fully intended to bowl right through them if they didn’t move, but right when I approached them, they stepped out of the way.

Man, I can’t wait to have my tubes tied. In a double sheet bend.

Anyway, it was a nice night for a run. 54°F and overcast. At least, it was until we got down to the track. As soon as I started running, the clouds broke and the sun came out. The light was gorgeous, and with all these people around, the grackles didn’t spleen me. This is cute: every time I ran past my sister and the dogs, the dogs would get all happy and excited. I felt bad, like I should have had Tank with me, but he hates people (he’s owner protective) and I couldn’t have run steadily with him barking at the kids on the track.

I’m still feeling pretty rough for the second three minute run, but when I’m running the first one, I think, I can do five minutes, no problem! So I think I probably won’t stay in Week 3 as long as I did Week 2. I think. We’ll see how it goes.

Hopefully, I can get my car jumped and running tomorrow. I’m not sure it’ll make it home, but maybe I can drop it off at the dealership. I can’t actually afford to have it fixed, but at least it’d be sitting someplace useful, right? So it looks like I’ll be walking to the track from now on. It’s going to be in the 60’s all week with rain on Tuesday. Boo.

Game 5 tomorrow! The game on Saturday was oh-so-awesome. I made Stanley Cupcakes again, and I think that, combined with my lucky red shirt, really helped Detroit shame Pittsburgh on their own ice. You’re welcome, boys. Don’t mention it. And speaking of Detroit, a friend of mine said she would send me her Yzerman jersey! Funnily enough, I’ve got my mom hooked on hockey now. Whenever I turn on the game, she wheels herself over and watches the entire thing. Saturday, she was surprised the game ended so quickly. When I told her hockey is only three 20 minute periods, she said, ”Why isn’t it four periods?” I replied, ”Because then they’d be quarters.”

In other (wonderful) news, the laboratory dogs all got adopted out! What a load off my mind. I found out yesterday that there’s another dog in need of rescue, though. My sister has a friend on Louisiana who volunteers at an animal shelter. There’s a little puppy there who needs a good home, but nobody will adopt him because he’s a special needs dog. They think somebody poisoned him, and as a result, he’s got some sort of brain damage where he falls over or passes out a lot. He’s okay 90% of the time, but still. Not a lot of people would want a fainting goat dog. I’m not a lot of people, though, so it looks like I’m getting a puppy. He’s only a couple of months old, and apparently very sweet.

How can you resist that face?! I sure as hell can’t. And those ears! I’m so verklempt, I could plotz. So right now we’re trying to figure out the best way to get him out here. Flying him out would be easiest for us but not for him, I think. I’d worry about him in the cargo hold in his condition. Another option being tossed around is a sort of relay delivery. Trouble is, I don’t know anyone between Oregon and Louisiana who could help with this. My sister tells me there’s a pet transport company that could drive him out, so we’ll look into that. He'll also need to have a thorough exam at the vet to try and figure out if we can fix whatever's broken.

I said when Luke died last year (and when Lady and Bernie died eight and three months ago, respectively) that I didn’t want another dog. Even though I knew how sad and lonely Tank was, I didn’t want to take in another animal if I wasn’t ready. My sister and I have always been of the opinion that when the right dog came along, we would know it. I feel that way about this puppy. And after I screwed Tank up so badly, I swore I’d never get another puppy! But, lesson learned; I won’t make the same mistakes twice. Proper socialization and lots of car rides.

I am very much looking forward to years of long walks with Tank and the puppy, and I know Meathead (my sister’s dog) is going to love having a young ‘un around again.

See you Tuesday (I hope).