When a dog bites: A cautionary tale

It was the perfect day to run. The cold temperatures had disappeared, and it was a 50-degree fall day. The wind had calmed. The sky was clear.

I couldn't not run and if I was going to head out, I should use the opportunity to start my plans to get Denali into shape. After a run group member brought along her dog to the past two weekend runs, I was inspired to get Denali to the point. Tami told me that she had been running a mile or so with her dog, dropping him off and finishing her runs.

Her idea sparked something in my brain, and I decided that I would try to run a mile with Denali every day through the end of the year. It's not going to be a streak — he will be boarded over the holiday — but it would be a strong effort to make him a part of my exercise routine.

Mark was impressed with my initiative, and we agreed that I would run 1 mile with Denali while Mark bathed Miles. I would be home before it was time to read to Miles.

At 7:05, I put on my You Saw Me vest (code "healthy strides" for free shipping) and got Denali leashed up. The excitement was palpable as we stepped onto the front porch and heard the encouraging buzz of the Garmin.

There was a short walk to the corner and we were off. Denali was more than energetic in that first tenth of a mile up the street. My breathing was ragged and my steps quick. I tried to slow us down as best I could. After all, this would be an e-a-s-y easy run for me, and he was getting back into shape.

We began to settle in to a more comfortable pace as we headed north on the boulevard lined with beautiful historic homes. The third of a mile stretch, surrounded by modest family homes, never ceases to stand out to me. We headed south again, headed home, when we reached the stone entrance of the neighborhood. There was a slight uphill and then we had a steady grade down toward home.

Denali was happy. I was proud. I thought about what a great start this run was to our project.

And then, a block from home, it was over. Seemingly out of nowhere, a neighbor's dog ran toward us and grabbed Denali at the throat. I'm not sure what happened next. There was a fight, yes. There were yelps and violent movements.

In the middle of the street, frozen, I screamed for help. At the top of my lungs for what seemed like 2 minutes. I tried to keep hold of the leash and pull Denali to me. To bring him to safety. The dog, though, was still there.

With a snap, it was over. Denali's prong/pinch collar had come undone by the stress of the event and he was free. He ran down the street, away from the attack. Away from me. As I went for him, the owner came out of the house. Silent. The dog disappeared into the darkness.

I screamed at her between calls for Denali. "This is the second time your dog has attacked him." I was on the cusp of crying. Still, silence.

I found Denali on the porch, panting and still. He was shaken — hell, we both were — but he was fine. He was safe. It was over.

Knowing what to do in that situation was difficult. Eerily enough, this weekend my running buddy and I were talking about how we wouldn't know what to do if our dogs were attacked on a run. You want your dog to be safe but you need to keep yourself safe, too. Intervening between two dogs can further anger the attacking dog or you can get caught between them.

Here are some tips:

Turn away. If possible, turn your back to the attacking dog and try to lead your dog in the other direction.

Look away. Do not make eye contact with the attacking dog. It will signal that you are not a threat.

Commands. Try issuing familiar commands to both dogs. Sit, stay, back away, leave it. It might offer a cue to the dog to be obedient or seek positive reinforcement for listening (read: treat).

Carry pepper spray. Don’t be afraid to use as much as needed and spray directly into the dog’s nose and eyes. Be mindful of the wind so you don’t spray yourself. If you have to use the spray on your dog as well, don’t hesitate to do so.

Carry a flashlight. A bright light  can be directed into the eyes of an attacking dog to temporarily blind him.

Carry a whistle. The loud noise might help break up either dog’s focus during a fight, and will help call attention to other people in the area to come help.

Sources: Canidae, Shiba Shake and WikiHow

Heal. Heel!

Look who's back ...

Three weeks, almost to the hour, Mark and I took Denali out for his first run since being hit by a car and Denali didn't look back - except to see why we were dragging.

The vet gave us no clear guidelines as to how long we should keep him from exercise but Denali's behavior last week was more than indicative that he was back t normal. He no longer scowled when getting up and any evidence of a limp was impossible to detect. He wanted to go outside 10 times an hour, he darted after bunnies and he started getting "jumpy" whenever he would see one of us lace up a pair of sneakers.

If those weren't sure signs, I don't know what they are.

I had initially planned to take Denali out for tonight's recovery run but when we had a nice window for everyone to join me for the first part of my long run Sunday, we decided to go with it. Miles got some warm clothes on, Mark layered up and Denali rocked his collar + poop bag combo. Just like old times.

We made sure to keep it easy, as to not aggravate any injury, and were on the watch for any sign of an interrupted gait or discomfort. The pace was relaxed as we headed toward the park and down the greenway, and I was elated to see that Denali was trotting along almost effortlessly. He didn't pull with relentless enthusiasm like the days of yore but he did keep up and showed no signs of dragging.

Just as with a human injury, we didn't want to push Denali and kept him to a 5K as we were sure he didn't lose all of his fitness. He seemed like he worked, taking a big rest break on the rug, but not wiped the way we would have been had I tried to take him for the remainder of my 9 miles (holla for cutback weeks!).

And since he did so well yesterday, I think I'll still bring him along for my recovery run - if only so I don't have to carry my pepper spray. We'll ease him in slowly, maybe a few 3-milers a week, and increase his mileage a bit as he gets stronger. Maybe he'll even train for the Veterans Marathon with me.

Or not. Maybe he doesn't need to build that much endurance.

Spring Training: Week 6

Spring Training posts document my training for the Run the Bluegrass Half Marathon on March 30 and my "A" race, the Wisconsin Marathon half, on May 4.

The week, in training:

Monday: 5 miles, treadmill
Tuesday: ZWOW 20 + 20 minutes of TurboFire
Wednesday: 4.64-mile run, outside
Thursday: ZWOW 7 + 5.32-mile run, outside
Friday: Rest
Saturday: BODYPUMP
Sunday: Rest (sick)

◊ ◊ ◊

It was another warmish winter day, one that made me long for the fake winter conditions of last year. It was mid-30s, clear and and the snow was all but melted. A February day I could not let slip by me - not without a run.

As Mark cleared up dinner, I threw on a pair of capris and my Brooks Nightlife half-zip. My Nikes were laced as dinosaurs took over the living room. I wrangled my watch from a pair of inquisitive hands and turned it on.

I was ready. And waiting.

At 6:55, those curious hands hugged me night-night. At 7 p.m., I was out the door, for a run. My reliable companion by my side.

Our run was nothing special. I wanted to do something "long-ish," enjoy the time on the pavement and log some exercise. I remember Denali was a bit sluggish, likely from a walk earlier that day and a lighter training schedule this winter. But he was happy to tag along and even happier to sprint to the finish.

It seems a bit odd to think that such an unremarkable outing - one I struggle to remember aside from MOTOACTV issues - will be my last with Denali for a while. Though my pooch seems to be improving at a rate far beyond our expectations, he is limited to leash-controlled bathroom breaks for seven days and subsequent exercise will likely be gentle and gradual.

When Mark and I were expecting the worse, one of my most selfish thoughts was: how can I run without Denali? I am a runner because of him. When he was an exuberant, enthusiastic puppy, I followed the Couch to 5K program because I wanted to be a good dog owner, exercising him regularly, and I figured it would be far less painful to run 3 miles in the cold than walk them. Since then, he has logged thousands of miles with me. I felt encouraged by him when I was pregnant and frustrated. I felt protected after an attack on the trail system. I am constantly inspired by his love for the run and willingness to take whatever he can get, when he can get it.

I plan many a runs when I can get him out for some exercise and I count on him for safety reasons. In fact, I am so accustomed to running with him that I often say "left" or "stop" out loud when turning corners or approaching an intersection even if I'm by myself.

And while many dogs can be a pain in the IT band to run with, Denali is an amazing athlete. He is focused, driven and well-behaved. He doesn't chase squirrels, bark at people or show aggression toward other dogs. In fact, I can count on one lobster claw how many problems he's caused on an outing and I would be lying if I gave him full blame for the incidents.

I already feel a bit lonely as I look at this week's weather forecast and mapping out the week's runs, knowing I'll be flying solo. But I know he'll be back in no time, and I'll have a renewed love of running with my pal.

P.S. Mark and I wanted to thank you for the kind words about Denali and the unkind words about the driver. I feel blessed and lucky to say that he is improving nearly every hour, and he is moving with little to no pain. Denali even wanted to go back to his routine of sitting in the yard, feeling the breeze blow through his fur as he stared at squirrels darting around the tree. 

Weekend report: Good, Bad and Ugly

The weekend, from start to finish.

I am sick. For the first time in ... I can' tell you when the last time I was sick. What began as that irksome pressure between the eyes snowballed into one of the worst weekends of recent memory.

Good. Mark and I had planned to celebrate Valentine's Day this weekend, making arrangements with my in-laws to keep Miles overnight. We might not have been able to execute our plans as intended but we did have a childless Saturday night and finished much of the painting we had hoped to do.

Bad. My cold started with sinus pressure that was annoying but not debilitating so I began my Saturday as planned with BODYPUMP. It was a small class but a class nonetheless. However, with each passing track, I felt worse. I was coughing as we stretched and struggled to find energy during the bigger tracks (lunges and shoulders). I still had hope that I could do the Fanny Freezer 5K for fun but once my butt hit he couch, I knew that it would be dumb. It was the first time I didn't do a race as planned (we were planning to do day-of registration) and I missed my chance to register for this year's points race. Neither are very big deals in retrospect.

Ugly. I was hoping that my decision to take it easier on Saturday would mean that I could still head out for a few miles on Sunday. Denali was looking especially cute and eager that morning but I had to let him down. I just had a feeling that running would be just like BODYPUMP - I'd manage but feel 100 times worse upon completion. Mark and I finished up a few things and left to pick up Miles. As we were leaving, Denali took the chance to get in his own run and darted from the front door.

Denali has gotten loose before, and his MO is to run the neighborhood for an hour, hour and a half and return home. We always try to find him and yesterday was no different. I went after him and tried to lure him with the apple I was eating. In 10 minutes, though, he had disappeared into the maze of alleys and yards that is our neighborhood. We figured - wrong or right - that we might as well go get Miles and search upon return. (My in-laws live 1.5 miles away.) When we got home, our neighbor said he saw Denali poking around and tried to lure him with treats but to no avail. A few short minutes later, another neighbor told us he had spotted Denali and I left a crying Miles in the house (Mark was showering) and went to find him. I had a cookie and collar, hoping it would be enough to nab him. I closed in and my hopes were raised as he ran toward me. Denali took one sniff of the cookie mid-gallop and ran right past me. I went in pursuit but failed. I came home and a few minutes later, I spotted Denali again. This time, Mark went after him. The situation was nearly identical. Mark had a cookie and Denali had no use for it. He wanted to run. Mark was about a half-block behind, trying to close in.

And then it happened.

Denali ran into the street and was struck by a car. The driver didn't stop. Mark quickly caught up and some nearby residents helped Mark as Denali lie on the park strip. He was alive but in obvious pain and had some cuts on his face. A neighbor stopped and drove Mark and Denali home so we could get him to the emergency vet.

Denali is a tough dog and, as it turns out, had no broken bones. The most concerning result was a small lung puncture. We were told that he would either rapidly improve - or decline - in the 24 hours that followed depending on how his body healed. It was terrifying as his breathing became labored and then slowed. Mark and I really feared that we were watching our running partner, pal and loved one die.

I knew that it wouldn't be 24 hours that would make or break us - it would be the night. I slept with Denali in the living room and at 3:30 a.m., I got a sign. I was up for a bathroom break and he was ready for one, too. He was still irritable and I gave him water and food, which he gobbled up eagerly.

We're not out of the woods yet. He's still in pain - his front left leg was injured - but he's breathing. And that's all I will ask for.

Jolly old, St. ... err, Denali

Somebody sneaked into our house last night.

No worries - he was welcome. It was St. Nicholas, after all.

The Feast of St. Nicholas honors the life and deeds of Bishop Nicholas, who was revered as a gift-giver and protector of children. Growing up in a German-Catholic household in a German-Catholic area, the stories and celebration of St. Nicholas were commonplace. It was never anything extravagant - a few pieces of candy, an ornament and maybe a small gift - but it was something we looked forward to early in the Advent season.

I know Miles has no idea what is going on but I wanted to begin the tradition now and allow it to grow in the coming years. In his stocking was a book and a pair of holiday jammies to wear on Christmas Eve. (A Facebook friend posted that her kids pick several toys on St. Nick "eve" to donate to charity, which I think is an awesome idea and very much in the spirit of the man.)

Of course, I was not surprised to find that Miles gave no attention to his gifts. He was far more interested in Denali's KONG.

So much for my traditions.

What does surprise me is how much this child eats. At 17 months, I swear this kid puts away food like a high school football player.

Take yesterday morning. I made him his standard scrambled egg with broccoli and cheese. He had two graham crackers while I was cooking the egg and a quarter of a banana. A half-hour, 45 minutes later, he was asking for another cracker. I compromised with a fruit and grain bar.

We had some running around to do, and I am so grateful I had the foresight to stuff a string cheese in my purse. The stick was consumed as we weaved through the aisles at Walmart.

And if that wasn't enough, he saw me eating an apple in the car and insisted on having it.

Lunches vary for Miles but daycare is very good about giving him well-rounded meals. This week, I know he had meatloaf and rutabaga - one of which ended up on the floor. Want to guess which? Snacks are often fruit and crackers. The fruit sometimes ends up on the floor, sometimes it doesn't. The crackers ... well, they are always eaten.

Miles eats whatever we have for dinner. Last night, we went to my in-laws and my MIL made tuna casserole and broccoli. Both devoured by Miles.

Happily.

I am sharing Miles' eats as par of Brittany's Munchkin Meals and because I'll be accepting donations to feed my future Olympian. OK. Just kidding on the second part. Be sure to check out the other Munchkin Meals.

Animal instincts

 Dear neighbor with the pit bull,

I am mad at you. Very mad at you. After all, it is your fault that I did not log the miles I had so hoped on Sunday morning.

I was running on a glorious fake winter day, courtesy of a gracious husband who took my toddler shopping for the holidays. I had set out with a loose plan of 5 miles but I felt good, and it turned into 6 miles then a 10K. I was on track to hit the 6.2-mark at my driveway when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw your stupid tan and white dog.

Your dog might be a nice dog. He might not be the pit bulls you hear about on the news, the ones who attack small children. But that's not a reason to leave him untethered and otherwise uncontained in the front yard. He barks - loudly - and runs the length of your property, obviously indicating his territory and, more than likely, his intention to protect it.

And it scares me. A lot. So much so that I fear running past your house will only further excite the dog and incite a fight. When I see your dog in this state - we both know this isn't the first time - I stop my MOTOACTV, slow to a walk and chalk up the run as done.

Even if I don't want it to be. Like Sunday, when I ran an asinine 6.14 miles.

So please, please, please stop being a crap and put your dog in the fenced back yard. The one I know you have.

Yours truly,

Kimberly

◊◊◊

I like to believe I'm a good dog owner - I exercise Denali, give him good food and make sure he doesn't stink. I am forgiving, though, as I know things happen. You know, like a bored dog sneaks out the front door and explores the neighborhood for two hours. My runs lately, including Sunday's almost 10K, though, have left me with a few pet peeves.

Literally.

1. No matter how well behaved/trained, a dog can and will leave a yard if given the right motivation. Shock collars and invisible fences are not fail-safes either. It is not wise to just leave your dog running around with the expectation that a) he will stay there; and b) no one will get hurt. Also, any passersby will not be hip to your dog's awesome abilities to stay in a yard and might be frightened by an exhibit of territorial rights. Example: A fancy house in a nearby fancy neighborhood has a Labradoodle with an invisible fence. The dog is nutso and runs the length of the entirely too big yard yard at Usain Bolt pace and I nearly crap my pants every time.

2. If you can't control your dogs around other people/animals/fire hydrants, find a place to exercise them that doesn't involve those things. On Sunday's run, again, Denali and I encountered a man riding his bike with three dogs. THREE. He was on the sidewalk, coming toward us, but went to the street to give us room. The three dogs were in the park strip, going absolutely insane as we passed. Again, near crapping of the pants. I was worried not only for my safety and Denali's well-being but that of the cyclist. They surely could have pulled him over and thrown him in traffic. Some might call it Darwinism but I try to be protective of my fellow man.

3. Retractable leashes are the dumbest things ever. Don't use them. Seriously. They don't offer any control over your dog, and your dog doesn't need to walk 20 feet in front of you. Unless you are having a quarrel but that's another story. If your dog needs that much room, go to the dog park or buddy up with someone who has a fenced yard.

4. I might get flak for this but oh well. I can't let my dog be an "outside" dog so you shouldn't get to make your cat be an "outside" cat. If you do, and my dog lunges for it, knocking me to the ground, and eats it ... well, not my fault.

Have you had any frightening animal encounters? What are your pet peeves?

Saturday snapshot

On you mark. Get set. Wog!

Our jogging stroller has arrived! Woot, woot! My in-law’s purchased the BOB Ironman for us – it was the only thing I asked them for when prompted – after hearing lots of positive reviews. Right now it’s parked in the dining room as we need to order a car seat adapter (the one we bought at the local bike shop was for older BOBs). We should get it just in time for my 6-week post-partum checkup where I expect to get the all-clear.

Green envy rides again!

This picture is obviously from last summer.

I’ve been riding my bike to my Weight Watcher meetings (four blocks away), and it has given me an itch. An itch to really ride. So, on Thursday, I asked Mark to keep Miles all by his lonesome for an hour or so so that I could go out by myself for a bit. I rode just over 6.5 miles in 35 minutes and it was … it was … well, freeing. Painful but freeing. I felt my quads and my heart each time I pedaled, a reminder that I need to ease back into a cardio routine. Hence the 6.5 miles and not 10 I naively thought I could do.

Barefoot and not pregnant.

I’ve been wearing my Vibrams. I promise. Even if there is no photographic proof. In fact, I went zero to 60 (or 0.5 mile to 2.5 miles) in the stretch of two walks. I guess I’m not good at easing into everything. No worries – there are no strains to report - just some calf pain.

Best friends forever.

Denali is doing as well as can be expected with Miles around. There are some signs of jealousy and depression but he doesn’t seem to want to hurt Miles. In fact, he just wants to lick him. All. The. Time. It’s just me Denali is pissed at. We’ll see if he changes his tune the first time I lace up my Nikes.

What do y’all have going on this weekend?

Sunny days pushin’ the clouds away

Move that body: ~4-mile walk with the boys

It’s Day 3 of my Prilosec regimen and, let me tell you, things are looking up. I might not be pain free but I rolled over this morning with one thing on my mind.

Food.

It had been three days since food was something to be wanted rather than feared. And I can’t lie, I don’t think I loved my husband more than when he said, “Do you want to go out for breakfast?”. The thought of pancakes and eggs is enough to make this lady swoon.

Mark and I tried a new-to-us restaurant in our ’hood that a few of my co-workers LOVE. The menu features French toast made with angel food cake, a baklava topping for pancakes, bacon waffles and a million and one egg dishes. Seriously, a million and one. I opted for one of those – a Greek skillet that had gyro meat, tomatoes, peppers, onions, potatoes, cheese and eggs. It was served with my favorite condiment ever – tzatziki sauce.

(There are no photos because I a) couldn’t wait to eat it; and b) I didn’t bring my purse.)

After such a filling breakfast – of which I ate half and saved the rest for lunch – you would think I’d be ready to do something. You know, like, exercise.

Not.

The idea of gardening for a few hours and then a movie seemed like a better idea. To me, at least. Mark was amenable to the gardening – not so much to the movie.

So I told him to get walkin’.

I was nice and went, too, but only under the condition that we went far enough to make me not bored.

We walked a mile to the park and did a loop, stopping occasionally to enjoy the scenery. Mark admired the muddy river and Denali took delight in Mark’s legs. I took delight (unpictured) in the shade. It was warm! And, I hate to say it, the combination of the gardening and 4 miles left my uber pregnant self a bit fatigued. (Folks, I only have 17 days to go!)

But no worries – I was able to power through. With a little help.

Just the thought of our post-walk visit to Cold Stone Creamery kept me moving. Not so healthy but I did have a acid reflux caloric deficit to make up ;) I had a “Like It” That’s How I Roll or something like that. It was AH-mazing.

Mark was a chunk-a-monk and had a “Love It” something and loved every bite. Except the one he gave me.

Yep. He’s a keeper.

What did y’all do this weekend?

Walk the dog

Move that body: 3.5-mile walk with Denali

I woke up this morning at 6 with the plan that I would eat a small bite and head down to the basement by 6:30 to do some incline walking. When I went upstairs to grab some shoes, though, Mark was already rolling over so I decided to skip the treadmill and take a walk with my boys.

Usually when I walk with one of the boys who will go unnamed (ahem, the one I’m married to), we tend to do no more than 2.5 miles. The one who is allowed to sleep in the bed gets bored walking more than that. However, I wanted to go a bit farther and I got the go ahead to pick the route. Ha! Then Mark’s curiosity about where a co-worker lived sent us down a dead end and added about a half-mile to the walk. In the end, it was 3.5 miles of meal planning and basking in the gorgeous morning.

And since walking – more specifically walking with the boys - is more than likely going to be popping up more and more on the blog, I thought I’d offer up some of my summer dog walking tips.

1. Dress appropriately.

You might need wicking gear but a pair of stylish glasses and a tank are nice. BTW, the photo is hiding my 3 million sizes too big basketball shorts that now have pain on them.

2. Take water. It’s a good time to get in a good 20 ounces of water without thinking about it. Take a bigger bottle if you don’t have a baby sitting on your bladder and can handle 30 ounces for a few miles.

3. Teach your dog to drink from the bottle.

Go ahead, call me gross. I don’t care. I share my water with Denali. We usually squirt it in his mouth, and he does pretty well about lapping it up. It’s really important that your pup gets water. After all, if you’re hot, he’s hot.

4. Free up your hands and tie the poop bag onto his collar.

It looks like a cute little bow and keeps your hands from sweating. By the way, I have no idea what that white spot is on his nose.

5. Teach your dog directional commands. Denali knows “right,” “left” and “stop.” If you say right, he will turn right. If you say left, he turns left. If you say stop, he stops and sits. This one might not be as important on a walk as it is on a run but we keep up the practice so he doesn’t forget.

6. Speaking of commands, “leave it” is a good one. Most unsuspecting pedestrians don’t enjoy Denali kisses.

7. And if a pedestrian wants to greet your dog, make sure that he knows that he has to sit. No sit = no lovin’.

8. Plan your route so that if you find yourself needing that little plastic accessory you have somewhere to drop it off. There’s nothing worse than being a half-mile into a 3-mile route and being stuck with that. Especially if you have preggo super powers.

9. Use a leather leash. If you don’t want to spend money on one, get a nylon leash. But never, ever, ever use a retractable leash. The retractable leash gives a dog too much leeway and you can’t gain extra control by wrapping the leash around your hand.

10. Watch out for “snacks.” And by snacks, I mean dead animals, half eaten tacos, lost articles of clothing. Trust me, you don’t want to know the things Denali has put in his mouth. (To clarify: Denali never gets water after eating something nasty. Teeth must be brushed first!)

Do you exercise with your dog?

The ‘I don’t know what to make for dinner’ dinner

Move that body: 2.7-mile walk with Denali

The menu plan called for leftovers last night.

Except we didn’t have any leftovers. And the chicken that had been in the fridge was put in the freezer.

What’s a girl to do? I mean, besides cry and make the husband go get Subway.

Here’s what:

Take leftover bag of diced potatoes with onions and throw it in a skillet with canola oil.

Add the three mushrooms and half a green pepper that you found in the crisper, sauteeing until potatoes are crisp and vegetables soften.

Add spinach leftover from the week’s pasta dish and halve some grape tomatoes leftover from, umm, something. Cook until spinach begins to wilt.

Add egg mixture made with 4 eggs, 3 whites and a half-cup of fat free milk. Cook in the skillet until the eggs begin to set on the sides. I would have used 3 eggs and 4 whites but Mark was watching and got a little too curious for my liking.

Top with cheese. I used about 3/4 cup Touch of Philadelphia mozzarella because that’s what I had and using 3/4 cup meant I could finish the bag. Who cares if I really wished that I had cheddar. Pop the skillet it unto a 450 degree oven for 10 minutes.

While the frittata is baking, wonder just what your husband is doing to the dog. Does Denali really enjoy this?

Remove frittata from oven when cheese is bubbly, maybe even browning, and eggs are set. I cut it into four servings and served with low-calorie whole-wheat toast. The recipe would serve four comfortably with the addition of a side of fruit. No fruit? It serves more like three, three and a half.

Word of warning: When you are serving, don’t forget that the handle of the skillet is hot. Because it is. And if you touch it …

Well, OUCH!

What’s your meal in a pinch?

Hood winked

Workout: 2.7-mile “run” (walked <.25 mile)

I didn’t even want to count how many days had passed since I last run. While my days have been filled with walks and stairs and all around movin’ around, I was anxious to put an end to my runless streak.

I leashed up Denali, put on the Garmin and headed out to explore the neighborhood. I have run a bit in the area both in training for and during the Fort-4-Fitness half-marathon but this morning was a whole different experience. I felt like I was finding my legs, so to say. I had no idea how long a route would be, where the crosswalks were at and how friendly the neighbors would be.

As it turns out, the route ended up being a bit short, the crosswalks were manageable and the neighborhood dogs were LOUD. But it twas a run and any run is good. Denali got out some much needed energy, I sidestepped the dead squirrel before he could see it and I got to see some pretty houses. I also got a good idea of where I should run, with the ability to adjust the distance of the route, until I’m able to go 4+ post-baby and head to the nearby park (1.5 miles away) and catch the Greenway.

***

Home update

“It’s hard work screwing everything in this house.”

In two days, I installed one towel bar, five curtain rods and seven sets of blinds! The kicker? I did all of it with a manual screwdriver. While I did have access to a cordless screwdriver and used the drill bit to make pilot holes, the Phillips bit was a pain in the rear and it was much easier to manually turn the screw.

Talk about some upper body work! After “finishing up” yesterday (I still have two sets of blinds to go), I could literally feel the pain in my right arm muscles and shoulder.

It’s all worth it as the house (despite the mess) is starting to come together.

Bitten by Jack Frost

Workout: 3.01-mile run

It was after Mark’s fourth “just half, please” margarita at the luau last night that I knew we wouldn’t be getting up at dawn to run.

Nope. No, siree. And, let me tell you , I’m so glad we didn’t.

Once again, we had winter-esque temperatures - 23 degrees at 9:30, and I can only imagine what it was at 7:30 a.m. when we got up. (You can take the pregnant lady out of a long run schedule but you can’t take the long run schedule out of the pregnant lady!) We ate breakfast, I helped Mark grade papers, I peed 300 times.

About 9:30, Mark said he was ready. And as long as I could go, we were going. Then.

I got dressed in winter gear – again – but learned my lesson from Friday. I wore a compression top, lighter quarter-zip, vest, tights, gloves and a regular hat rather than a knit cap. It ended up being perfect. And very pregnant looking.

As you can see, it took several tries to get a photo and Denali refused to cooperate for any of them. Right after the second photo, Denali pawed me in the babymaker and, in the third photo, the only reason he is looking at me is because I had a Teddy Graham in my hand.

Anyways …

Today’s run was OK … and just OK. It was chilly and the wind was brutal. Seriously up in my face for the first half. I hate you wind. On the positive side, we did take the trail up to the campus, making for a nice change of scenery, and I didn’t pee my pants. Too bad I can’t say the same for Denali. Wuss couldn’t even make it a half-mile.

Now, if you’ll excuse me. I spent too much time this afternoon watching “Hoarders,” and I’m feeling the need to go through my boxes o’ shoes.

Anyone watch “Hoarders”? What are you doing this afternoon?

S.O.S.

Workout: 3.12-mile run

I need help. In more ways than one.

This morning, I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to run. I was feeling a bit lazy and tired, though I know that (more than likely) I will be tired for the next 18 years. So I asked Denali for help.

Only problem: He really wasn’t that helpful. Usually he’ll jump up and run to the door but this morning he decided to make an @ss out of himself. I probably need help if I’m going to a dog for advice.

Either way, I went for a run. Within the first quarter mile, I had to pee and by the time we got to the park at 1.5 miles, I had no choice. I had no shame about attempting to take Denali into the ladies room but it was locked. So I headed for the port-o-pottie. It was a handicap-accessible toilet, leaving me no option but to take Denali in with me. (In the past, I’ve been able to close the door on the leash and leave him outside.) It was a rainbow of smells for him, I'm sure, and he kept himself occupied, nose to the ground, while I emptied my bladder. For even thinking that this was an option, I am sure I need help. Of the mental kind. Or, at least a diaper if I can’t run 20 minutes without a pee break.

I ran sans iPod because I just finished "Water for Elephants" on audiobook, leaving me to listen to crap radio or my limited iTunes selections until I find a new audiobook. One problem? I am so not tapped into what’s good and have no idea what to look for. Help! Have you read anything or listened to anything of note lately?

Decision … made

Everyone, gather round. I have something important to tell you. I have made a ruling. A monumental ruling.

Calories eaten in he middle of the night don’t count. They just don’t. They fall into the abyss of nothingness or into limbo or the Bermuda Triangle of missing Girl Scout Cookies.

I mean, think about it. Do you write down your 3 a.m. fridge raid for the day prior seeing as you haven’t really woken op or do you count them toward the next day because it’s after midnight? And, if you are eating because the pangs of hunger prevent you from going to sleep at 3 a.m., should it even be considered consumption? Hello, it’s medicine.

OK. Not really.

But I will say that I had absolutely no choice at 3:30 a.m. but to eat. I woke up at 3 a.m. to go to the bathroom because, you know, I do that and I couldn’t go back to sleep. At first, I thought it was because I was using the solitary moment of quiet in the house to think. Wrong. I was hungry. Super hungry. I tried to roll over. Forget it. But groan. Loud groan. So I got up, plodded to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of Cinnamon Puffins (btw – not as good as the PB variety) and ate it out of my favorite penguin mug with some 1 percent milk.

Then I went back to bed. As luck would have it, though, the cereal didn’t put me to sleep either. Oh no. I was up till 5:30 and then slept till 6:15. Thanks for the bark in the face, Denali.

Friday love will be a bit delayed today. No sleep = Frozen brain. Or, really, something lovely is happening later, and I might take photos.

And just for giggles, something to make you smile. BTW, this didn’t happen last night in our house. I’d have to take out the shelves for Denali to fit. And even then, he’d steal the bottle of hoisin sauce (which I almost put on my English muffin this morning because I was so tired) and eat it before he’d consider hanging out for a photo.

What have you done for me lately?

Pre-workout eats: Kashi bar and a banana

Workout: Ran 4.23 miles

I didn't grow up with the Ten Commandments.

I grew up with 11 commandments.

There’s the first 10, the ones we all know and follow (hopefully), and the 11th – Grandma is always right. But before you balk, my grandma is a wise lady. She warned me about shaving my legs too early and the stresses of dog ownership and told me not to drink my calories. Heck, this morning she told me that in a few short months the world will no longer revolve around me. Crazy, right?

One of her most sage pieces of wisdom came a few weeks ago: You should wake up in the morning and think not of yourself but what you can do for your spouse. Now, as a pregnant lady, I usually wake up and think, “Holy mackerel, I have to pee!”so I brushed it off.

However, I did do some nice things for Mark today:

*I brought in the garbage cans from the sidewalk and put them on the patio. By the way, I should get bonus points because I did this while brushing my teeth. Multi-tasking, people. Multi-tasking!

*I started a load of laundry like he asked, managed to put it in the dryer and remembered to pull out his favorite sweater (which I have deemed his favorite because I bought it for him) so it doesn’t shrink and suffer the same fate as one of his former favorite sweaters.

*I took Denali, sans sweater, on a 4-mile run where he was able to release some of his energy, eat yesterday’s snow and, in general, enjoy himself. Why is this good for Mark? It means he won’t eat the guitar for Guitar Hero while we're at work.

*I’m also making spaghetti with pesto, grilled chicken and broiled tomatoes for dinner (+asparagus for me). And by the way, I’m being nice and not sneaking in whole-wheat pasta. Oh, no. It’s Ronzoni Smart Taste for us (a high-fiber, calcium-filled noodle that tastes like white pasta).

What nice things do you do for your spouse?

Disclaimer: This post was partially inspired by Skinny Runner. She’s awesome.