That Looks Uncomfortable

1. Do not send test requests or instructions via text message. You are a smart person, you can figure out my email address. 
2. If you ask me to determine the crystalline structure of a non-crystalline material, please tell me beforehand that it has no crystal structure, so I do not spend 3 days rerunning it, thinking my data are garbage and the machine is down. 
3. If your sample is extra-special delicate, tell me before you give it to me, not a week later when I have already machined it by normal methods. And don’t tell me via text message, because I will ignore you (see #1).

12 mile Saturday was abbreviated to 10 mile Saturday, due to lack of time. 

But it was an epic 10 miles. 

Maybe not epic. But nice. 

I did the first 4 miles with a headlamp and no contact lenses, because it was 6 am, and I mistook the blurriness for limited visibility in the early morning darkness. Everything was charmingly misty and out-of-focus, which is okay when it is 6:30 in the morning and 35 degrees. I was not very fast, but didn’t notice because everything was a blur. At about mile 3, I felt my omnipresent bunion blister (sexy, no?) flare up, so I turned around to get some moleskin, my contacts, and some sort of simple carbohydrate, since I had neglected to eat. 

Bandaged and contacted and sugared, I headed back out. A little faster at the same effort level, and psyched for the full 12 miles, until I did some time math in my head at mile 7, and realized that there was no way it was going to work out. So I hustled back at faster-than-race-pace, which still felt really good (yay clif blocks!), and showered and dressed and was ready to head out to the husband’s bike race in the nick of time. 

I may have reached my driveway at 9.85 miles, and continued past into a little 400 yard sprint, just to make sure I had a nice even 10 miles. That is not so wrong, is it?

My thoughts on this run ventured frequently to donuts. We had plans to stop at a fancy new donut place on the square on the way to the race, so I was going to earn a delicious fried pastry and giant cup of steaming hot coffee. 

This donut place was obviously sent by a vengeful deity to punish me for not doing my training correctly or something, because the “donuts” were an abomination (squares of puff pastry with holes in the middle, covered with way too much gross icing and breakfast cereal. I was battling hypoglycemia and may have actually teared up when I opened the box. And the coffee was cold). One of the people coming with us had big bags of candy to throw at racers, so I tried to drown my disappointment in starburst. 

Negative 5000 points for Denton Square Donuts. 

Jerkhole dog is fine, though he is constantly interested in whatever is going on on the counter now. Jerk. 

Jerkhole cat has an injury on his face somewhere, and I can’t find it. The bridge of his nose is swollen, changing his profile just enough that he looks different to me, but the husband can’t see it. He (the husband) was briefly concerned for my sanity when I had an extended conversation with the cat about being a not-quite-perfect impostor placed by the government to spy on me, and how I was totally on to him. 

Joking, people! Not paranoid. Everyone knows that hamsters are the real goverment spies. 

I haven’t run since Tuesday. Rained at lunch yesterday, and I went to see Anthony Bourdain last night, so there was no time. Both of those are actually terrible excuses. Meh! 12 mile long run tomorrow, though, and it’s supposed to be cold. Objectively cold, almost, and not just Texas cold. Mid-30s cold. Excited and also not. Kind of exhausted today, what with multiple consecutive nights of suboptimal sleep (I typed “speel” on my first try. There is some evidence for you). 

So yeah. 12 miles tomorrow, which is the most I’ve done since the hot and miserable half marathon in June. I will try and remember to ingest some simple carbohydrates sometime in the 6 hours it will take me to run 12 miles.  

Also, I have a massive pimple about to issue forth from the little fold on the side of my nose. It is pretty awful. Just thought I’d share, because it is causing me so much emotional turmoil. Yes, turmoil. It has its own gravitational pull. 

My bastard dog ate an entire half of a chicken last night, bones and all. Yoinked it right off the counter, which is not something he does very often. That, or it simply winked out of existence like a poultry D.B. Cooper. But I’m pretty sure it was the dog. To his credit, he did wait several hours until after I got home from Derby practice, and had taken a leg for myself. So I guess he’s a considerate bastard. 

He seems fine so far, which is a relief and also slightly irritating. Not that I’d wish harm on my dog (okay sometimes, maybe, but only in jest), but I would like for him to have some sort of consequence besides a delicious roast chicken dinner. 

And then! Sometime after midnight, Fat Cat conquered his fear of the box fan, pushed it out of the way with his non-opposable-thumbed fat feet, and got outside, where he and a neighbor woke me at 2:30 with high-pitched angry cat interaction noises.  He came in with damp fur on his neck, so I had dreams the rest of the night of suppurating, abcessed cat wounds. Thanks, Fat Cat. 

Luckily (sort of, I guess), he is still on antibiotics from a bladder infection, so hopefully he doesn’t actually fester. So we’re keeping a close eye on both furry bastards for the time being. Jerkholes. 

Last night I ran 6 miles of speedwork. It hurt. I was happy. This running business is very strange. 

It is simultaneously unpleasant and something I look forward to. I am not sure how to process that in my mind. I keep signing up for more and more ridiculous feats. Half marathon next weekend, 10-mile trail race in December. At this rate, I will be running naked through the desert for days at a time in a few years.