Girl and Dog

Today was attempt number two at running 19 miles. I succeeded, more or less. I tried for the first time last weekend, but a combination of factors forced me to admit defeat after only 12. First off, I was totally exhausted from sleeping only two hours a night during finals week. To make matters worse, it was HOT, which we didn’t realize, and we didn’t bring nearly enough water. I was totally dehydrated after 10 miles. Finally, I just didn’t seem to have it mentally.

This time was better, except that now I know what it feels like to hit the wall. At about 17 miles, I just didn’t have anything left. The last four miles were just downright painful and consisted of a combination of running and walking. Don’t tell me I’m not a true runner because I didn’t run the whole way. Trust me, I was happy just to keep moving my legs. Actually, I take that back. I was not at all happy to keep moving my legs. It hurt so freaking bad to move my legs. I was anything but happy. At least the weather cooperated–mid-50s and partly cloudy–so we had that going for us.

Once again, I’m really doubting the feasibility of actually finishing the marathon. Today’s run killed me. I really don’t have a strong desire to run 26.2 miles anymore. I’ve begun to think that running a marathon may be a one time event.

This morning I was awakened by the sweet sound of Georgia getting ready to puke.  That always gets me out of bed in a big hurry.  Fortunately, today she was considerate enough to aim for the rug instead of the carpet.  I’ve been known to rudely drag her onto the linoleum when she started gagging in the past.  I am totally going to be one of those mothers who’s running to the bathroom holding my kid by the elbows while he’s spewing all the way down the hall.  Like that visual?

Anyway, I’m somewhat at a loss to explain how Georgia’s stomach functions.  She doesn’t throw up often, and when she does, 99% of the time I discover that it’s because she swallowed something indigestible (ex: a greasy paper towel stolen out of the trash.  Oh, those paper towels are so tempting!  How could any dog be expected to exercise self control?  Kidding.)  However, there were plenty of times in her youth that she swallowed something that was not food and managed to both keep it down and pass it along naturally.  Things that come to mind include CD pieces, a sock, and the insoles from my running shoes.  This morning the culprit was two blades of grass that she ate before dinner last night.  How does her stomach filter out the kibble and keep the grass from passing through?  It will likely remain a mystery.

Georgia has a small wardrobe of collars that I try to keep in check. Truth be told, I would love to buy every unique collar I see, but I try to limit myself. She has about five–which I don’t think is unreasonable–but that number could double or triple in a hurry if I gave in to my desires. I recently discovered Lucky Fiona on Etsy, and I can’t stop looking at these adorable collars! I want them all! I think I’m going to buy at least one, but I am having an extremely difficult time deciding which one.

Here are some of my favorites:

Aren’t they the best? And they’re not even expensive at $13.99. Collars like this are usually $30 plus. Do you see why I can’t make up my mind? Which one should I order?

I survived my second set of law school finals.  I now have to wait approximately 8 weeks to find out my results.  Don’t they realize that I am not a patient person?!   I’m now enjoying two weeks off before I start my summer term.  It feels so good.  Except…

On Saturday morning, I stepped outside with Georgia for her morning business to discover that the back windshield of my car was broken into millions of little pieces, and there was a gaping hole in one side.  The cause of said hole was a 4-5 inch chunk of pavement sitting on the floor behind the driver’s seat.  Honestly, who throws a rock at someone’s car?  I was so mad.

I hope the thrower really enjoyed his or her 30 seconds of kicks from that, because it cost me several hundred dollars to replace and took up about a day of my time between calling in a police report, calling the insurance company, calling the glass repair place, waiting around for the repairman to come, and waiting around the rest of the day when he discovered that he had originally brought the wrong glass and couldn’t return until evening.  All in all, it was a pain in my butt.  It’s fixed now though, so I’m not going to let it ruin my time off.  Just wondering, is it vengeful of me to hope that the rock thrower’s own windshield gets smashed at some point in the near future?

Yesterday I survived my first final exam (not first final ever, just first final of this finals week).  It went much better than I expected it would, so I walked out of there after three hours feeling all sassy and on top of the world.  I decided to use the restroom before I went home, and wouldn’t you know that I picked the stall with no TP and didn’t discover it until it was too late.  I guess days just aren’t meant to be perfect.

Finals start one week from today and will last for five days. That means that between now and Friday the 18th, I should do nothing but study, operative word being “should.” Coincidentally, spring has finally decided to grace us with her presence–an unfortunate bit of timing. It’s 65 and sunny today. I actually ran in shorts and a tshirt and got sweaty to boot. Gross, yes, but after a winter consisting of runs in sub-zero weather, solid ice, and feet of snow, I’ll happily take sweaty for quite some time.

I may or may not update the blog during the next two weeks. I’ll have to wait and see how I’m doing with my studies and if my brain needs a break. If the updates are scarce or missing entirely, I haven’t abandoned you. I’ll be back in action after the 18th. I’ve been thinking up some ways to make the blog more interesting and consist of more than just journal type entries, so stay tuned. Good things to come in the future.

The marathon training continues.  Yesterday we ran SEVENTEEN miles.  I know.  I’m beginning to doubt my sanity too.  The sad thing is that as insanely far as 17 miles is, it’s still 9.2 miles away from the marathon distance.  There is NO WAY I could have run another 9.2 miles yesterday.  I’m beginning to think that this marathon plan is ridiculous.  I’m pretty sure that bodies (well, at least my body) are not meant to run that far.

After about 10 or so miles, it becomes much easier to keep running than it is to stop and then start again.  If we hit a red light, I usually keep up a jogging motion in place because it’s SO HARD to start to run again.  During the last couple miles, I needed a drink, and Tim had the only full bottle left, so I asked him for it.  I stopped to walk while I drank because I just can’t get enough if I try to drink and run at the same time.  When I finished gulping sports drink, I told myself that I needed to start running again.  I willed my legs to do it.  They didn’t comply.  I said out loud, “Legs, move!”  That cracked Tim up, and he said it reminded him of one of those Sync commercials.  They finally started to “run” again, and somehow I finished.  We made it an entire 17 miles.

The last couple miles were somewhat surreal.  As Tim later described to me, “I couldn’t even tell what my legs were doing the last three miles.  It just felt like they were flopping around down there.”  I couldn’t have said it better.  What stood out to me is that as I got close to the end, all I could think about was stopping.  I just wanted to be DONE.  All I wanted was to be able to stop moving my legs.   The problem is that when I finally did stop, it didn’t hurt ANY LESS.  The pain didn’t stop.  It was JUST AS BAD to be stopped as it was to be running!  I can’t really imagine what 26.2 miles is going to do to me.   It still doesn’t seem possible at this point, but lots of people do it.  I hope that come June 21, I’ll be one of them.

Today is Georgia’s third birthday. When she was younger and a terror and I was at my wits end, people would tell me that labs start to calm down between two and three years of age. She really has settled down a lot in the last six months or so, but she has a long way to go. All hope is not yet lost because other people told me that she would settle in between ages three and four.

Hopefully this year of her life will be the one in which she stops pulling on the leash and starts coming when called. Yes, we’ve been to professional training. Yes, I’ve been trying to make her heel since day one. Girl isn’t the brightest bulb on the strand, but she’s getting better, and I love her madly in spite of her deficiencies. And oh my gosh, she used to be so tiny.

I’m feeling rather devastated today. My check engine light has been on since last week, and since I was supposed to drive across the state today to celebrate my boyfriend’s birthday, I thought that just maybe I should get it checked out before I did so. Yeah, that was a mistake.

The cost to fix everything that is wrong with my car is approximately equal to what my car is worth. Nope, I’m not exaggerating. There were several major issues of the “you must fix this before you drive again or you might break down on the side of the road” variety. I should have just taken my chances.

I always worry that mechanics are trying to swindle me (which they probably are), so I called my father to have him talk to the kind gentleman who wanted me to authorize repairs costing more than next term’s tuition. We agreed that we would not replace the catalytic converter at this time since that particular problem was not of the “you must fix this before you drive again or you might break down on the side of the road” variety. I am, however, getting a new axle, new cv shoes (?), a new timing belt, and various other new things to replace some life threatening conditions and several “major” oil leaks.

Apparently trying to live a greener lifestyle and stop using plastic bags has been a total waste because I am driving around in a smog factory and will continue to do so until I come up with another $1300 to do the catalytic converter repair. I felt like an awful person when the guy at the car dealership said, “Well, you won’t break down, but you’re driving around polluting the air.” I’m sorry Mother Earth.

A little part of me hoped that my dad would tell me that I shouldn’t bother to repair it (my dad still has a hand in such matters) and should instead look for a new car, and I already saw the perfect used Subaru on Sunday. Alas, that was not to be. Looks like I’ll be driving my little Honda for the next 20 years (or at least I’d better be able since I’ve now replaced practically every major and minor component in the six years since she became mine).

So anyway, here I am, stuck at home with no car and no way to get where I was planning to go tonight and do all the things that we have been planning for weeks. I feel awful, and then Tim changed his facebook status to say that he has the best girlfriend in the world. The best girlfriend in the world probably would have hitchhiked, hopped a freight train, or traveled by camel so as not to miss her boyfriend’s birthday. Instead I’m probably going to spend the night watching American Idol and maybe drowning my sorrows in a beer. But thank you, honey, for still thinking the best of me.

* HAPPY BIRTHDAY*