I ran today for the first time since last February. It was an avalanche of icy roads, not feeling well, and surgery combined with my inherent laziness that laid low my lofty ideals. Today, however, feeling guilty about the dog having been locked up in the house or the backyard with no one to play with for the last three days, I decided I would go running after taking the boys to the bus stop. There is a wooded park with many trails just down the road from the bus stop and I thought it would be a grand idea to walk over there, run, and walk back. It would be refreshing! It would be glorious! It would tire the dog out so I could do some housework without dodging him and his need to be glued to my side at all times! Ever try to mop with a dog who feels the need to stay four inches in front of you? Ever try to even walk down the stairs with such a dog? Good times. But, I digress. The boys took such a long time getting ready to go, mainly due to a Gameboy addiction, that by the time we got down to the bus stop, the bus was well on it's way to picking up other children. There happens to be another stop on the far side of our neighborhood, so we booked back home, shoved everyone in the car and drove to the other side. We beat the bus by about 90 seconds. Missed needing to drive to the school by that much....woohoo!

The dog and I made our way to the nearby park where there is an abundance of foliage and not much fauna of the two legged variety. The park is 122 acres of foresty goodness with 3 miles of hiking/biking/walking/horsing trails. I strapped on (quiet!) my iPod on, took a firm grip on Knucklehead McSpazatron and off we went. Now, lest you have forgotten, I hate running. After of year of non-running, I still hate it. I had gotten to where I just disliked it intensely, but I have come to the conclusion that I officially hate it. Unfortunately, my dog is in dire need of lots of activity, so once again, I'm running. It's actually a pleasant place to run until you see the sign that reads, "Keep dogs on leash at all time. Recent Bear Sighting." Are you kidding me? Do you really think I want to keep the bait that close to me? I spent a great deal of the run eyeing the hollowed out spots in the underbrush where some form of animal had bedded down for the night. Or a homeless person. There, now I feel better. Although, with the park being in close proximity to the prison, I guess it could have been an escaped convict. Which lead me to thoughts of being an extra in the Roger Corman extravaganza Swamp Diamonds starring Mike "Mannix" Connors. For some reason in this film he was known as "Touch" Connors. I can only hope this was a drug induced suggestion from his agent and not some ego driven need for a cool handle.



(That is one masculine looking woman. And what's with the popped collar?) Really bad movies made great by the vocal stylings of Mystery Science Theater 3000. Oh, how I miss them. Sorry. Moving on....

Fears of being abducted by a gang of bleach blonde, perfectly coiffed, escaped convicts aside, the run went fairly well until the trail took a turn for the worse. The trail ran alongside a drop off to the highway. Looking at this stretch of highway, I realized that I was staring at the back of a large sign. Really large sign. The only really large signs on this stretch of highway are the ones that read "Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers. Correctional Facility." Oop! Time to beat cheeks outta there. Little closer to my clientele than I wanted to be. I took a left and found yet another challenge. Read: steep incline. Something my with which my mobility restricted left ankle would not be amused. My choice here would be to continue running, albeit on tippy toes as far as my left side goes, or to reduce my pace to a brisk walk. Shoot. Dang, I really wanted to continue running, but my physical restrictions just would not allow it. Okay, I'm a big baby and I was ready to stop for awhile. Not to mention the fact that the cold air caused me to spend the next 4 hours coughing like I'm sure this chick does


Yaaaaaah! You know she hacks up a lung every day.