Week 3, Day 23

Hey, tonight
Gonna be tonight
Don’t you know I’m flyin’
Tonight, tonight

Better late than never.

I overslept this morning; a sure sign that I’d gotten my period. Fed the animals, washed down a wildberry waffle with a glass of soymilk and headed up to my mom’s. Dropped her off at her Thursday Thing, came back here and decided it was too hot to run. I waited and waited and waited and finally at around 7:00, it dipped down to 75°F and I decided it was time to hit the track.

This probably would have been my best Week 3 run so far, if it weren’t for my goddamn calf muscles. They’re still killing me. Maybe I need new shoes? Too bad. That’ll have to wait.

So ... that’s pretty much all I have to say about today’s tonight’s run. I’m in a bad mood and don’t feel like writing much. I will say this, though: Since I started the Couch-to-5k program nearly one year ago, I have gone 71 miles. I won’t say I’ve run 71 miles because not all of it was running, but it is still a huge accomplishment. That’s a lot of movement for a fat chick with arthritis.

I forget if I’ve mentioned it and I’m too lazy to go back and check, but my sister and I are leaving for Colorado a week from tomorrow. I have half a mind to buy this album to listen to on the drive because it is some of the weirdest, funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. The Mustard Battle, Dear Uncle and The Swimming Pool are three of my favorites. I’m no somniloquist, but I did once walk into my parents' room in a dead sleep and try to sell them Girl Scout cookies. My mom said I was quite insistent and became very angry when she said she didn’t want any.

I’ll see you on Saturday. I’ll probably have a late run then, too, because I’m taking my mom to a street fair in the morning. We (and about 5,000 others) are going to try and get in the Guinness Book for the most number of people playing the kazoo.

Week 3, Day 22

This ain’t the garden of eden
There ain’t no angels above
And things ain’t like what they used to be
And this ain’t the summer of love

Good day, and welcome to Day 22. Took Mom swimming this morning. Scarfed down a Clif protein bar on the way to the pool. After swimming, I ran some errands, came home, had a big spinach salad with peppers, radishes and Bragg’s, waited about 20 minutes and then headed down to the track.

There was a gaggle of pre-teens loafing around the fence where I stretch, each of them decked out in a black hoodie (hoods engaged). They left after I’d done my warm up, so ... yay. The weather was good for running: 61°F, overcast and a little windy. As much as people complain about all the rain in the Pacific Northwest, it’s nice to get a break from the summer heat every once in a while. It was pouring while I was swimming, but perfectly dry while I ran.

As for the run, it went pretty well. The second half was murder on my calves again, but at least my lungs are holding out. I didn’t have time to workout yesterday because I had an eye appointment. The good news is, my left eye hasn’t gotten any worse. The better news is, my right eye actually got better. Are you ready for this?

My right eye is -5.50
My left eye is -4.25

I had made an appointment for my sister as well, and she went ahead of me. When it was my turn in the chair and the doctor started the exam, she said, “You’re the twin with the bad eyes.” I laughed and said something about my reputation preceding me, and she told me that my sister had been her best patient all day: her prescription hasn’t changed at all.

Bitch.

You know how they make you stand on the line and put the black thing over your eye and read the eye chart? When I took my glasses off, the tech asked me which line I could read the clearest and I said, ”It’s all a blur. I know the top one is an E, but it’s always an E so that doesn’t count.” She laughed. Thank you, I’ll be here all week. Other than being completely blind, by eyes are totally healthy. I attribute that to my not wearing contact lenses in three years and also from not wearing my glasses 100% of the time. I take them off to exercise/run/swim.

I got a year’s supply of disposable contact lenses. I rarely wear them, but it’s nice to have them just the same. Because my right eye changed, I decided to get new lenses for my old frames. Except when they took them from me, they said they were so worn out that I’d have to sign a waiver. If the glasses broke during the “re-lensing,” I would have to come back in and get another pair. So I picked out a new pair and kept my old ones as a spare. Which kills me because I love my glasses. The new frames suck, but they were the closest I could get to my old ones.

Anyway, the point is, while I swam and ran, I had my contacts in and was amazed at how well I could see.

Not much else has been going on. Oh, except that I’m out of my fucking mind and had no idea what week it was. I thought we were going to Colorado this week, but it’s next week. I’ve had my dates all screwed up, which makes me think I really should call someone about getting this ADD diagnosed.

Sunday my sister and I went to cheer on our friend Rene, who is on a gay softball team. They did a double header, but we only caught the second one, which they won. This Sunday we’re meeting up with Rene again, this time for Sister Bingo. It's the first Sunday of every month. July was 50’s Bingo, which is the one I was really looking forward to. That and Pajama Bingo. August is Beach Bingo, and I won’t be wearing a bathing suit.

I've been walking Tank a lot lately; about two miles every evening. The other night we walked pretty late. It was mostly dark, so I didn't know there was a skunk in the ditch until Tank ran at it. Thankfully, he didn't get sprayed, though it wouldn't have mattered to me if he did. I can't smell a damn thing. Not even skunk.

I have a massive headache and I still have to shower and go to the vet to pick up some fluids for Spooky.

See you Thursday.

Delay of game. Two minutes.

From morning to night I stayed out of sight
Didn’t recognize I’d become
No more than alive, I’d barely survive
In a word...overrun

Hi. I haven’t run since Tuesday. I’m not sick or hurt, I just haven’t had the time. My sister and I took our mom swimming on Thursday (and saw a bald eagle on the way to the pool) and that’s the last time I had any peace. Nothing bad; I’ve just been really busy and kind of stressed. I had time to go to the library today, where I killed an hour waiting for my film to be developed. I’m happy to report that Reg (my “new” Nikkormat FTn) works perfectly. Here are some shots from the test roll (Fujifilm, ISO 100):

Ocho on the prowl


My sister (grubbygirl)


Very, very sad Tank

Needless to say, I’m incredibly happy with the results. The mercury battery it came with still has a bit of life left in it, so I can hold off on buying a(n expensive) replacement. When I picked up the film, I bought a cheap pack of b&w film (ISO 400). My sister and I are leaving for Colorado next week (and this time we may actually get there), so I’ll need to stock up on some color film as well. I just can't even tell you how happy I am with the Nikkormat. I've missed analog photography so much. I feel like I was just reunited with a long lost friend.

Tank is still depressed and lonely, despite the fact that Sis and I walk him at least two miles every evening. I don’t know what else to do for him other than get him a dog, and a week from Monday, I’ll have done just that.

Anyway, I had that hour to kill before my film was ready (someday I’ll have my own darkroom), so I went to the library. I had a couple of things on hold, but I strolled around for a while and snagged a couple other items, too:

• The Division Bell - Pink Floyd (I lost my copy in the move)
  
• Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
  
• The Twilight Zone Radio Dramas (10 whole CDs!!!! That’s eight hours of radio drama, bitches. One of Sis's friends recommended this to me, and I jumped all over it once I found out they had it at the library.)
  
• Who’s On First? - Abbott and Costello (How could I not already have this?)
  

I also checked out The Last Unicorn, by PeterS. Beagle and The Station Agent. Sis hasn’t seen it yet, and we both love Peter Dinklage. We watched Penelope last night and he was great in it. (If you haven’t seen him in Death at a Funeral, go rent it.)

The movie itself was cute, but the “guess which instrument I play” scene was horrendous.

In closing, I’ve got Nikkormat photos up at my Flickr and will definitely see you on Tuesday with a regular run entry.

Week 3, Day 21

No time left for you
On my way to better things
No time left for you
I found myself some wings
No time left for you
Distant roads are calling me

Ah, what a beautiful day for a run: 69°F, cloudy, nice wind coming in from the West. I had high hopes for this run.

All in all, it went pretty well. I was a bit rushed this morning, so I only had time to scarf down half a granola bar before I took my mom swimming. We went to eat at a little cafe in town (coupon, of course) afterwards. I had a hummus sandwich with tomatoes, lettuce and cucumber and a side of potato chips. Except what I actually got was soggy bread with a smidge of hummus smeared on it, a big piece of lettuce and a tomato sliced almost as thick as the bread. No cukes. No chips. Their water cooler ran out of water before I could get any, and by the time they got around to putting in a new jug, I was done with my meal.

Yeah. I won’t be going back.

Anyway, after lunch I took Mom to run some errands, then came back home, threw on my running gear and went to the track. The running/recovery was fine, but my calves were hurting again. Fellow runner, Christie, recommended a video called Yoga for Every Body, so I put in a request for it at the library. I probably won’t get it for another week or two, so in the meantime I’m trying to stretch longer than I usually do after I work out.

I definitely feel stronger now that I’ve gotten back into working out six days a week, but I’m still eating like shit. Blehhhh. At least I’m sleeping normally again. I went to McMenamins to see The Happening with my friend Rene the other night; I’m always amazed at how good I feel after I’ve spent time with her. It makes me realize how much of my life I spend alone. I sometimes go half a day without speaking. Anyway, movies there are only three bucks and you can curl up on a couch or a rocking chair right there in the theater. We usually end up sitting in this little room near the lobby and talking for an hour or so after the movie ends. There’s a fireplace in there and in the winter there’s always a fire going. Very cozy. Sunday night, we went to the bar downstairs. They’ve got four pool tables and a pinball machine down there; two of my favorite things. I’d like to just go shoot some pool sometime. Ah, if only I had friends.

We were sitting there, talking to the bartender about passports (I need to get mine ASAP) and how apparently they’re going to deny Americans crossing over into Vancouver and Whistler during the 2010 Olympics (dammit, I was going to go to those, too) when an old man came in and ordered an absinthe. The U.S. relaxed the ban on it last year, and I’ve always been curious as to how it tastes. It was cool watching the bartender prepare it, but the old guy started talking snooty about being an absinth expert, so we left.

This week I definitely need to get in for an eye appointment.

I had a really awesome dream the other night. It was pretty much the best dream ever. It involved photography and hockey. Wait, it gets better. You see, I was on a hockey team. Not only that, but my friend Indi was one of my teammates. Not only that, but we were skating around the rink during warm up with our bags on our shoulders. Because we had our cameras with us and refused to part with them, even during a game. At one point during the dream, I got boarded, fell to the ice and whipped out my Nikkormat to take a picture of the guy who hit me as he skated away into the neutral zone. Why did I have to wake up? (No penalty was called, by the way.)

Stupid goddamn alarm clock.

See you Thursday.

Week 3, Day 20

All that rain outside my window, it goes on and on, I know
It’s getting better every day
Soon the sun will shine outside my window, when it’s gonna come
No, I really I couldn’t say
It’s getting better every day

Started the morning off with a glass of açai/strawberry juice mixed with a little aloe vera juice. Once I got all the animals fed, I scarfed down two gluten-free wild berry waffles. I was in a good mood because it was nice and cool out, in the low 60s. By the time I got out to the track, it was around 69°F. It felt warmer, but there was a nice, cool breeze blowing the entire time, so I wasn’t too warm.

Today’s run was great. Except for my calves. I had lots of pain in my lateral calves going into the second half of the run. I pushed through it and felt okay towards the end, but damn. It was painful. I should probably start thinking about getting a new pair of running shoes. Though I only wear mine three times a week for a half hour or less, I have had them for almost a year now. This time around, I want to go to Roadrunner Sports and get fitted for the right shoe. Hopefully they’ll let me buy a mixed pair, since my feet are two different sizes. Their shoes are really expensive, so I won’t be able to buy two pair. I might have to go back to Nordstroms.

Anyway, when I was walking back to my car, I noticed there was something spray painted on the back of the church. I didn’t have my glasses on, so I had to get up real close in order to make it out.

It was a giant penis.

Somebody painted a penis on a church. It was then that I realized the church parking lot was completely empty. Normally, the townsfolk have church service practically all day long, but today my car was the only one there. I retrieved my glasses out of the car and saw that they’d tagged the entire east wall and windows as well. (One of the windows was busted out and had a garbage bag taped over it.) The graffiti said things like “fuck peace,” and the anarchy symbol and “love is a crime, hate is a power.” Oddly enough, they’d also painted hearts all over the place.

I’m not religious, but that’s fucked up and wrong. I hope they catch the bastards. It’s weird because this is a really small, religious town. The morons even tagged some of the speed limit signs on the road up to my house.

I don’t necessarily hate graffiti. Some of it is really beautiful and not at all offensive:

This one is my particular favorite. It’s in Tampa, Florida, the pier at Ballast Point Park. My friend Julie (and her dog, Riley) took me there one night to show me this particular bit of graffiti:

Love it.

Have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Tuesday.

Week 3, Day 19

The bad in the world is hard to hear when in your ear a banana cheers.

Hey! I’m alive!

I didn’t get here in time to take my mom swimming, but I was determined to run before it got too warm. Weatherbug says it’s 65°F, but I call shenanigans. It felt like 75 out there. There was a breeze, though, and it wasn’t so warm yet that it felt like I was running around a volcano.

This run was by far the best I’ve had in a while. I definitely think the key (for my lungs) is to run really early or really late because I could actually breathe this time around. It got a little hard toward the end of my last three minute run, but it was regular “I’m fat and I’m running” gasping, rather than the “I’m fat and I have asthma” death gasping.

So, I’m pleased with myself. To be honest, I was actually scared to try and run again after that horrendous asthma attack last week, so I’m glad I (for once) didn’t let the fear stop me. As hard as it’s been, I’m just plain not happy if I don’t run. It’s the one thing in my life I have to look forward to, even though I hate it most of the time. This morning, I felt bored and miserable and didn’t feel like running, but I know that if I don’t drag my ass to the track, nobody else will. I don’t have any running friends (in real life). It’s just me out there. I’m sort of torn between caring for two people in my life right now, and I’ve been neglecting my needs a bit. My motivation for running lately hasn’t been health or weight loss. It’s just been something nice to do, for me alone. It’s a half hour I get to myself with nothing and no one bothering me.

I’m so glad my sister told me about the Couch-to-5k program. It’s been almost a year now that I started it, and I’m still only one Week 3, but that’s ok. I found something I love, and it has helped me immensely, mentally and physically. I can’t even imagine how good I’ll feel once I complete the program. Whenever that may be. I’m not in a hurry. I’ll get there at my own pace.

In hockey news, my friend Julie told me yesterday that the Bolts home opener is October 11th. Will I be able to fly out to Florida and catch the game with her? I hope so. My mom (a snowbird) has been talking about retreating to her condo in November, so I may just fly out with her at that time and catch some games then. They’re playing the Red Wings on November 13th. Gary Roberts and Ryan Malone are playing for Tampa now. The last time the Wings saw those two, they were in Pittsburgh, playing for the Cup.

Now, here’s the thing. Geographically, my nearest hockey team is the Canucks. It’s almost a six hour drive from here to Vancouver, but my sister has promised to go to a game with me. The Canucks’s’s season opener is October 9th, and they play the Calgary Flames. However, they play the Red Wings on November 2nd. If I can’t fly to Florida, I just might have to force my sister to drive up to Canada with me in November. We’d probably need to get passports though, eh? And it’s only 12 more hours to drive over and see my friend in Edmonton. Or ... not.

I’m just really pissed off that I can’t be in Chicago on New Years day. Two of the Original Six playing at Wrigley Field?! Very auspicious. 2009 is going to rock. Thankfully, the game will be televized. (I intend to have a subscription to Center Ice by then. 40 games a week!??! Yes, please.) We (Chicago) are usually on our first or second blizzard by the beginning of the year, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty of ice for the boys to play on.

I slammed a glass of O.J. mixed with aloe vera juice before I ran, so now I’m going to take my strawberry/banana/blueberry/flax seed/soy milk smoothie and The Boys of Winter out onto the front porch. After that, I’ll do aerobic and my lower body workout and think about what to have for lunch. For some reason, I really want to make corn chowder.

See you Saturday.

Week 3, Day 18

I’m still staying with my sister, so I got up extra early this morning so I could head home and pick my mom up for swimming. For all our hurrying, we got there a half hour early because someone printed the wrong time for the arthritis class. So we sat in the lobby and read gossip magazines for 20 minutes.

Happily, the little pool (where the arthritis water aerobics class is held) wasn’t unbearably warm today. Mom was freezing, I was quite comfortable. After the class was finished, we sat in the hot tub and I pedaled my legs under the (unbearably hot) water. By this time, I was pretty hungry (I inhaled a granola bar for breakfast), so we cut the hot tub short, got dressed and left. When we got home, I slathered on the sunscreen and then sat down to eat some Rainier cherries cheeries. If I haven’t mentioned it before, I am addicted to these things. I wait all year for them to come into season and then gorge myself on them. Well, I would if they weren’t so expensive. Lucky for me, the little girl who lives down the hill was selling them the other day. One pound for a dollar, as opposed to $4.99 a pound at the Safeway. I bought two pounds. How could I not? She had signs up saying “YUM! YUM! CHEERIES!” “CHEERIES 1 lb FOR $1!”


Cheeries. I’m not a sap, but that was damn cute. I could eat nothing but Rainier cherries all summer long and die happy. Oh, and my sister’s neighbor has a Rainier cherry tree in his yard. Last year I stood under that tree and ate those delicious little things for 20 minutes straight. And then went back and did it again the next day.


Anyway, cherries consumed, I headed down to the track.

I sweated my ass off the whole drive down, so I was a little nervous about how I would fare on the blacktop. Turns out I did pretty well for the first half (run 90 seconds/walk 90 seconds, run 3 minutes/walk 3 minutes). My calves held out pretty well, too, and I wasn’t out of breathe. Then the second 90 second interval showed up and I did okay there, too. The last three minute run was doable. I finished, but it wasn’t pretty.

Turns out it’s 92° out there. If I had bothered to check that little bit of information before I left the house, I would have held off my run until this evening. As it is, once I got out there, I refused to leave until I was finished. The pigfucker weatherman on the news last night was all, “Ohhh, don’t worry about it! It’ll be in the upper 70’s for the next few days!”

WRONG.

At any rate, from now on (in the summer, at least), if I can’t run in the morning, I’m going to hold off until evening. It just seems like the heat sucks the air out of my lungs. Not a good feeling.

Speaking of bad eyesight (like how I pulled that segue out of my ass?), I’m going in for an eye exam on Friday. Hopefully. I should probably call and make the appointment first. I’ll have to have my sister drive me. Why? Because I love my glasses and don’t want to get different frames; I’ll have to leave them behind so the eyeglass people can put new lenses in them. Because my eyes are so bad, they usually don’t have my contact lens prescription in-house. If I have to wait for the contacts as well, I’ll be blind for several days and therefore won’t be able to drive myself home. I won’t even be able to find the front door. Or my sister. When it comes time to read the eye chart, I have to walk all the way up to it in order to read the big giant E. Yeah, my lenses just keep getting thicker and thicker. Eventually, the doctor said, ”Why don’t we start giving you plastic lenses? Glass might be a little too heavy for you at this point.”

In hockey news, Dallas Drake retired. Sad, but at least he went out on a high note, eh? And is it hockey season yet?! They’re releasing the 2008-2009 schedule on Thursday, so there’s that to look forward to. Not that it means anything to me, living out here in sad, lonely, hockeyless Oregon. Speaking of which, I got this book from the library the other day: Hockey in Portland, by Jim Mancuso and Scott Petterson. It’s mostly images, which is kind of disappointing, but still interesting. Portland was the first city in the U.S. to have a pro hockey team. Did you know that? Neither did I. They were also the first U.S. team to compete for the Stanley Cup. Not bad for a bunch of people who can’t drive. So what I’m wondering is, why the fuck don’t we STILL HAVE A PRO HOCKEY TEAM? I’m not taking this lying down. Must find evil plan way to get Portland into the NHL.

In happy news, I got a new camera! Except it's not new (seven years older than me) and I don't actually have it yet. For the past week, I've had recurring dreams in which I'm shooting all sorts of amazing photographs with a Nikkormat. I was introduced (by my friend Julie, who also got me addicted to hockey) to the Nikkormat FTn when I was in Florida earlier this year, and I fell in love. Depth of field lever. Shutter speeds visible in the finder. Sturdy enough to be used as a weapon. <3 <3 <3 So the other day I finally snapped. I saw one up for bid on eBay and went for it. I snagged it for $63 (shipping included), which is a lot for me but still a steal. Now all I have to do is get a replacement for the now extinct mercury battery that used to fuel the Nik's light meter. Hopefully the camera will arrive in the next week or two. Digital is convenient, but it's sucking the soul out of old-time photography.

See you Thursday. Don’t forget to watch Wipeout tonight. I fucking love that show. Somebody got horked on last week. Heehee. Ninja Warrior for the U.S. Finally.

Big Balls.

Week 3, Day 17

Sealed with a curse as sharp as a knife.
Doomed is your soul and damned is your life.

Today was a first for me. First time I couldn’t finish a run. I’m trying not to be disappointed in myself, especially since it was either stop running or stop breathing.

Got a late start today; lots of errands to run. Picked Meathead’s remains up from Dignified Pets and then went to REI where I bought me, my mom and my sister each a BPA-free water bottle.

Got out to the track (new water bottles in hand) at around 4:30 p.m. It was warm, but there was a good, strong wind blowing. I was okay for the first half of the run, but during the second 90 second run, I started struggling to breathe. I took a hit of albuterol during the 90 second walk, but two minutes into my (last) three minute run, I had to stop. I just couldn’t get enough air and I was panting like Chicken Lips...something that pants a lot.

I walked until my sister was done running, then we stretched and came back here. Sis thinks it might be the smoke from the California wildfires that’s fucking up my lungs. She might have something there, since I can’t think of a good reason why it’s been so hard for me to breathe lately.

It’s going to be pretty warm on Saturday, so I think I’m going to bite the bullet and run at the gym. It might be easier on my lungs?

Mehhh. Disappointed.

Speaking of which, that Hemp Shake stuff tasted like spiced asshole. I had such high hopes, too. I think if I’d added it to a smoothie it would have been good, but I was at my sister’s house without a blender or smoothie stuff, so I just mixed it in some soy milk. It was all clumpy and gritty and tasted awful, so I dumped it. I’ll give it a second chance sometime.

More fantastic news: last night my sister’s friends told us that they had to take Curly Joe back to the vet because he was having some swelling issues. Turns out he had an incisional hernia. I assisted quite a few hernia operations in my day as a vet tech. Hell, I was born with two inguinal hernias. So I knew it was no big deal, but I was still freaked out. Seems like our animals can’t catch a break these days. I’m happy to report that he’s doing fine today. Here’s a picture of him from a couple of days ago. I can't wait to snuggle the hell out of this dog:

Also, my sweet peas are blooming! Ovechkin the chipmunk ate two of the petals, but I consider that deadheading, so thanks for that! (Fecking chipmunk is the bane of my existence.)

Time to make my sister watch The Adventures of Buckaroo Bonzai Across the 8th Dimension. See you Saturday, Bigboote.

Week 3, Day 16

Well now, I get low and I get high
and if I can’t get either, I really try
Got the wings of heaven on my shoes
I’m a dancin’ man and I just can’t lose
You know it’s all right, it’s okay
I’ll live to see another day

I’m back. Did you miss me? Don’t feel bad; neither did I.

I got up early today, determined to run despite the heat. Weatherbug told me it would be in the 80’s by 11 a.m., so I knew I had to make some big-time haste. I inhaled some soy yogurt (with ground flax seed) for breakfast, fed everyone else, threw on my workout gear and sped to the track. It was only 80°F, but out on the blacktop, it felt like 90°. Thank gad for the wind.

Yesterday, I did 20 minutes on the eliptical and my upper body/ab workout. I was at my sister’s, and I couldn’t find her 3 lb weights, so I used her fours. This morning I woke up to sore abs, but my upper body feels pretty good. So maybe I should increase my weights? I dunno. Anyway.

The warm up was good, the first 90 second run was good, though my calves hurt a bit afterwards. The first 3 minute run was okay, but my calves were in agony during the three minute walk. I was, once again, doubtful of my ability to finish the second half. I kicked my ass, though, and pushed through. The second 3 minute run was a killer, but I had been taking it easy since the beginning, not doing much more than a fast walk. I haven’t run in exactly two weeks, so I didn’t want to overdo it. I started out thinking it’d be fine if I couldn’t finish, but I’m really, really, really glad I was able to. It would have killed me to think I’d hit another setback.

I wasn’t thinking I’d do the entire five minute cool down, but I did. The wind had picked up again and I was still pretty revved up, so I took the time to cool down properly and then stretched in the shade by the church.

I’m home now, doing laundry and having a snack, and in a few minutes I’ll do my lower body workout. I’m definitely keeping up with the aerobic/strength training; I’ll never move forward without them.

In the past couple of weeks, I have learned a few things about myself:

1. Life without exercise/stretching isn’t worth the pain.
   
2. I am physically incapable of drinking.
   
3. When it comes to our animals, my sister is the good cop.
   
4. I think maybe I can go up to 4 lb weights now.
   
5. I have ADD.

Due to a bit of a life upheaval (someone else’s personal shit I won’t get into here), I haven’t worked out regularly in a month. So I guess being able to push through Week 3 again today was pretty amazing? Regardless, I’ve been in a lot of pain lately, and I know it’s from not working out or stretching. Once again, I can see that it’s NOT. WORTH. IT. to slack off. There’s no excuse.

I drank a bottle of blackberry wine while I was housesitting for my sister a few weeks ago, and aside from having some pretty funny drunken IMs (where I said things like ”I put foam hats on my rubbr duckies” and ”I feel fine, I”m jst having roulbe spelling a ltitle bit. IT’s ridiculous” and “fuckk hat guy. he ocudlnt’ senve stand up his own father an dsay, hey, man, I dont want to get naild by anything ecept that mary chick over there with the red hair.”), it isn’t something I’ll be repeating anytime soon. I woke up the next morning in excrutiating pain. A week later, my sister picked up some Jamaican lager and I had a bottle (they’re very small). Next morning, again, woke up in excrutiating pain. Needless to say, I’m just going to go with my original plan of not drinking at all.

Last year, a good friend of mine was diagnosed with ADD. Which I guess is just referred to as ADHD, even if you don’t have the hyperactivity bit? Anyway, we’ve been friends for going on ten years now, so I trust her judgement. When she told me that I more than likely have ADD, I chalked it up to “I’ve got it, so everyone else must have it, too.” Eventually, I started listening to what she had to say and realized that a lot of it sounded familiar. And I guess that, a lot of times with women, ADD is misdiagnosed as anxiety disorder.

Obviously, I’m not going to say for sure that I have ADD. Only a professional can work all that crap out. Unfortunately, I can’t get help (for anxiety or ADD or arthritis or anything) until I get health insurance. I’m in the OHP “lottery,” and will hopefully “win” a spot on the plan. I think they let you know after 45 days, so I’m pretty sure I’m not one of the lucky 10,000. My next option is to keep looking for a job offering good benefits. The chances of that happening? Not good. I really, really, really, really, really, really need to see a doctor. For so many reasons.

Anyway. I got a sample packet of this Hemp Shake stuff the other day. I figured I should add some protein powder to my breakfast smoothies (couldn’t hurt, right?) so I got the Amazon Açaí flavor. I loooove açaí. Flavor, I mean. I’ve never had the actual berry, though I’d love to try some. So I’ll be having that for breakfast tomorrow. If I like it, I might buy a big container, though it’s really expensive and I’m poor (and a Scrooge).

I’ve also started drinking aloe vera juice. I hate aloe vera juice almost as much as I hate carrot juice. And, like carrot juice, the only way I can drink it is if I mix it with something else. Orange juice. Apple Juice. Grape juice. Whatever. I just can’t drink the shit straight. For the past month or so, I’ve been having some, shall we say, awful belly stuff going on. I think it’s IBS. I take acidophilus before breakfast, but I’m still not doing very well, so my sister got me some aloe vera juice. So far, so good.

Wow. Longest entry ever? I’m shutting up now.

Thanks again for all the kind words regarding Meathead. My sister is ok, but Tank is still depressed, anxious and confused. Next month we're going to attempt the Colorado Road Trip again to meet up with Curly Joe, so he won't be lonely after that.

I'll definitely see you Thursday.

And then there was one.

Minutes before we were set to leave yesterday, Meathead got sick. He was hunched over and obviously in pain, and he vomited in the yard. We took him to the vet, but a few hours later he was dead. He had severe pancreatitis (which is what Bernie died of four months ago) and a fever of 106. That's when brain damage sets in. They'd given him morphine shortly before my sister and I arrived, so he was comfortable. He recognized us when we sat in the kennel with him, but pretty soon after that, he slipped away. He was covered in ice packs to try and bring the fever down, but it was pretty obvious there was nothing that could be done for him except euthanasia.

Unfortunately, my sister's boyfriend was at work and not answering his 911 pages. By the time he finally got there, Meathead was gone. It was after closing and the vet had had to leave for a half hour, so there was nothing anyone could do when he started having seizures. My sister held him as he faded away, he drew one last agonal breath and was gone. I think my sister is going to be ok, but it'll be tough for a while. He had a good, long life with us and she says she has absolutely no regrets.

As for Curly Joe, my sister's friends have him for now and will either drive him out here themselves in August, or we'll attempt another road trip in a few weeks. For now, he is having fun playing with their dogs and learning how to pee and poop outside like a big boy.

We're on the road - We're all set to go - Tell us when!

'Cause the Rocky Mountain way
Is better than the way we had

I haven't run since the 24th and I'm all panicky about it. Last week I wasn't feeling well, this week I haven't had the time. Sis and I are leaving for Colorado tomorrow morning. We'll be back sometime Monday, and Tuesday I hope to be back out on the track.

Good news! I've got a lead on a good (but boring) job; it's in Portland and would be a bit of a drive for me, so I may end up moving back into my sister's house. The upside to that is, my sister works from home and would be there to keep an eye on Curly Joe and Tank while I'm gone all day. I don't know much about the job (got an inside tip from a friend) except that it involves phones and pays very well. I fucking hate talking on the phone, but I'm desperate enough to not give a shit as long as I'm getting a steady paycheck. Hopefully they'll have some nice benefits (medical) because my shit's all fucked up. The only downside to this job (that I can see) is paying out the arse at the gas station every week and not having time to work out as much as I'm used to.

Oh, well. I'll work out a new schedule, if I get the job, and still find time to run three days a week and get my dogs walked every day.

Speaking of dogs, I'm so excited!!!! Apparently, Curly Joe is about six months old but still small enough to tuck under your arm or hide in your jacket. This morning, Meathead was lounging in his doggy bed and Tank came over and started pawing his face. Meathead wasn't having any of it, though. Who can blame him? He had a rough week (barium series at the vet on Monday). Still, I felt bad for Tank, wanting to play so badly but not having an able-bodied dog to oblige him. Sis's friend said that Curly Joe wants to play with the other dogs, but he's really shy. Hopefully a week at our house will bring him out of his shell and he and Tank will be BFFs in no time.

So you won't be hearing from me until next week. Have a happy and safe Fourth of July. It's my least favorite holiday because it scares the shit out of the animals. Back before everyone went deaf, we had to sedate them on the 4th because they were so freaked out by the noise. Everybody except Tank, that is. That dog isn't afraid of anything. He hates water and car rides, sure, but he can deal with it.