Almost to the starting line

I probably shouldn’t write that, because I know I’m totally jinxing myself.

I probably also shouldn’t believe in jinxes, but seriously, after the past few years of mishaps, wouldn’t you?

But maybe my spate of bad luck is over.

After the “can’t sit up” day with a bad back, and the resulting trip to creepy chiropractor and my fabulously awesome PT, I took the entire week off from running. I swam once (almost drowned), I stretched, and I did the elliptical. I even stopped Body Pump. And I didn’t run.

Instead of a long run, I drove 225 miles to East Bumblefudge, NC, to meet this sweet gal. Does she look familiar?

Lizzy-turned-Lizzie

Lizzy – turned – Lizzie

She might. Let’s look at it this way.

Which one's which?

Which one’s which?

Since the week before Christmas, I’d been obsessed with “Lizzy” on PAWS of Hertford County’s website. Why? Miss Turkey came from PAWS (via a foster). This gal was 4 years old, and in all likelihood is Miss Turkey’s baby – and she’d been there for over 5 months. Who can say no to that sweet face?

My parents had considered adopting her, but decided they weren’t ready – my “childhood” dog, Sniffer, has been dead for almost 15 years. But several weeks later, they decided, well….maybe we’re ready. Let’s go meet her. And more importantly, let’s see if Turkey likes her.

Turkey and Lizzie didn’t seem to have an issue with each other, after a walk, and a romp around the shelter’s yard.

IMG_4520

All good? Let’s drive 225 miles back, Lizzie in my parents’ car, and Turkey in mine. 450 miles in one day (with a back issue)(and one pullover by a cop that resulted in me needing to make a court appearance near Richmond on March 22) did not a happy camper make. But Lizzie farted the whole way home, so really, I think my parents had it worse.

Things did not continue quite so smoothly, Turkey got a gash to the eye, and let’s just say there’s now a behavioral therapist involved (for Turkey, not for me….though one for me might be cheaper and would not involve hot dogs and Thundershirts). As soon as they realize there is fun to be had together, we’ll probably be waxing nostalgic for these days.

IMG_2392

One week later, I ran my three hours…quadratus lumborum survived. Then I got sick and stayed home for 4 days. Totally not related.

Despite staying home for 4 days, the next weekend I got doped up on sudafed and ran 16 miles with Flora and saw the fabulous Sweaty Emily out and about – shrieking “I know her!” as she ran by.

If you’re keeping track, this means my “training plan” consisted of approximately two runs a week for all of January, no Body Pump, and only one 20-miler. I know that it’s been nearly 5 years (58 months) since my last marathon, and that’s a dang long time, but even I remember that this is not the ideal way to do things.

Alternatively, I guess I could consider this a 6-week taper, chased with cheese.

Either way, this weekend’s gonna be…interesting. I’m bringing muscle relaxers and a jug of wine. Hope TSA lets me through.

About these ads
This entry was posted in Ankle Shenanigans, Training and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Almost to the starting line

  1. g2-8fd04873f76ca58cb505b69be429becd says:

    Oh dear. Good luck.

  2. Pingback: My heart. Our hearts. | IronMo: Adventures of a (retired) Irongirl

  3. Pingback: Hell froze over | IronMo: Adventures of a (retired) Irongirl

Comments are closed.