I-Ran is not just another country in the Middle East

I ran.  
On a cold, wet Sunday morning, I ran 7+ sucky miles.

I met up with my Run Tampa peeps at 7 a.m. (my running social group), it was chilly and still sorta dark, misty and cloudy at Flatwoods Nature Park.  We get our pre-run group photo, we all set our Garmins and iPhone Runkeepers, then we scatter like roaches.  Some of us (*me*) are doing the asphalt loop which is 7.58 miles, some are doing trails, which can go as far as 14 miles, and some crazies in our group are doing a bit of both, then to meet up again at the end to go over our "great" run.  I chose the asphalt loop - because after four glasses of wine last night....yeah, I could not remotely try to run on a trail with obstacles like roots, holes and sand - and the occasional snake or wild hog.

WHAT I ACTUALLY LOOKED LIKE RUNNING ON SUNDAY.

www.sportscasualties.com

Please take a moment to watch the following video. I hope you like Journey - apropos soundtrack to my run Sunday.   All I can do is find the humor since I could not find my mojo.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGojEyYBmwc&feature=colike

Welcome back!

Right now, you are either cracking up, grimacing or both. Yes, today I was a combo of the flightless bird and the dandy.  Yes, I do think of this video when I run, and yes I witness this (of other people) on a day to day running basis (and NOW so will you, you are welcome!).  This time, I hope someone was honestly cracking up at me because I was a pitiful sight.  I should have known better!  I am running a 1/2 marathon next Sunday!  And.....I. Must. Train.


Last Sunday, I went for my long run at Crooms, in Hernando County.    It is a little over an hour from my home and I had to get up at 4:45 a.m. to get ready, then pick up others along the way, and manage to get there by 7 a.m.  I did not get my coffee at home so I figured, eh, I could find a Starbucks somewhere along the way.  WRONG!  Instead, outside the Withlocoochee there is only ONE restaurant, a free-standing Hardee's that looked like Mecca to me at that point.  So instead of ordering just the coffee, the smell of fried lard was too tempting and overwhelming to this hungry gal - I succumbed!  I had to order the Frisco Breakfast Sandwich, I was so hungry, damn it! Yes, it was that bad.  My running partner, who was chomping on a healthy banana (and did not share) was like..."I woot nawt eeeth thaw eff I wha you...(*chew, chew, swallow banana*). You ARE running 10+ miles today, you are going to get sick!" I said I was only going to eat three itty, bitty bites. Ugh.  I should have listened.

Note to self: If you are planning on getting up at the crack of dawn to run with a group of friends, then do not think that third glass of vino +1 is going to serve you any good (nor a sandwich with ingredients that would keep filling a cardiac surgeon's AMG V12 Benz's gas tank).  I am here to say, "nope, no it will not."  Although, the wine might help you think your are doing an ass-kicking rendition of the "running man" in the middle of the dance floor, but it will not help you get a good, one-foot-ahead-of-the-other, run.  Err, actually the only run you will get is not the kind you want, in the middle of the woods, paperless, separated from a good working toilet by a decent 4 miles.

http://www.sodahead.com

So my stomach was under attack and bullet riddled like Iran, Iraq, Syria and just about any of those other surrounding volatile Middle Eastern countries.  Screw the knee pain!

I now also have a new nickname in our group: "Frisco."

 YAY ME.

Valentine, Shamlentine, *Ugh* The Lows of Hallmark Holidays

"Cupid, drawback your bow,

and let your arrow go,

straight to my lover's heart, for me....."

Then hand over the actual bow so I can whack you behind the knees...and get ya outtaa-heeereeee!

I hate Hallmark holidays.

Valentine's is the worse.  The absolute worse.  I hate to say it, I think it was a woman that came up with that brilliant idea.  Okay, Okay, I am going to get a bunch of "how dare you turn on your sisters!" lashings, but seriously, ladies, you all know, deep inside, it is a sham.  And what makes us women such incredible human beings and different from our male counterparts: what truly emotional beings we really are - how we tend to put an emotional spin on just about everything...."awww the first time we had coffee at that cafe, the first time you gave me flowers, the first time I heard you toot..." Awwww.....should be naaaawww, YUCK! YUCK! YUCK!  This is also what puts us in a headlock most of the days.  Girls, you must think like men, and let it go.  It does not have to be a parade or fanfare for the most basic emotions.  It should come without a price tag. I am not saying to not embrace your emotional side, like I said, that is what makes us special...but it is the pressure we put on our selves and our "loves." And no, they do not remember. Ever.  Not that they are bad or do not care, it is just that they reserve those spaces in their heads for other things, like who won the 1998 Super Bowl.

I mean, why on earth would you even think it is good or even necessary for some corporate CFO to remind you how truly special your significant other is to you?  It's all about the numbers for them. Period.  They jab at the heart to sneakily scam everyone in buying lovey dovey $5.99 cards that has pre-printed words of what it is you should say to your loved one that "you cannot believe the universe had aligned and caused your souls to become one" until you bought this card.  Then you go out and buy romantic stuff.  (More *caa-ching!*) Why?  Isn't that what you are supposed to do on Valentines' Day?  Oh barf!  Hallmark, Zales, Victoria Secret and Bern's certainly hopes that you buy into every bit of it!

Oh Dear, LOVE SHOULD BE CELEBRATED EVERY DAY!

When I used to work at an office, I remember the girls all checking out each others bouquets that were delivered to the office (as a way to measure how much their boyfriends LOOOOVE them oh soooo very much). Now with this day of smartphone cameras, they can "point and click" their bouquet and "share" them with their whole plethora of pathetic friends.  Yes, pathetic, really pathetic. I also remember how they looked at the one girl that did not get one (ahem, *moi*), with the pitiful eyes and their lower lip pouting out, and in their wittle baby voices,"aww Johanne, (*blink, blink*) I am sure he has something weeeally weeeally special for you later....awwww, bless your heart....."  Whatever.  


After giving the lowdown to my man, who is now my hubs, about my stand on this silliest of holidays, he was more relieved than anything.  We go out sometimes, grab coffee and sit outside to bear witness to all these "plastic", yet entertaining, mating rituals.  The bleak look on the guy's face who is hoping his significant other loves his so very obvious, last minute, procrastinating gift, which is delightfully wrapped, is just classic!  Poor sap!  Also, the dumb ass, pardon my French, who gives the girl a set of earrings in a nice ring box....OUCH!!!! Bad, Bad Move! The wide eyed look and eager, pursed lips wanting to say yes...Yes! YES!!  Oh boy that does not end well.....yikes.  I have to look away...the bloodshed is severe.  My hubs and I, usually take friendly, flirtatious bets, gave the earring couple, a 1 to 2 month window of lasting or having "the where is this going?" talk.  Aww see!  Now that was a date to remember.....people watching is THE BEST on this day!  We do thank you gingerly every year for our free entertainment. We leave with smug looks on our faces....oh I just love the little things that the hubs and I do that says "I Love You."   

NOW WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH RUNNING, YOU SAY?   I say RUN away from this nonsense.  I say, I love running, my family and hot brownie sundaes with a scoop of Breyers Vanilla Ice Cream (the one with the vanilla flecks, oh yum).  I say, give me all the commerciality of Christmas and Hanukkah!  I feed into it and all....because it is about gifts.  All about gifts.  It is no secret.  And I am okay with that.

So, if my hubs buys me an inflated priced bouquet of flowers that were $9.99 the day before, $99.00 the day of, and back to $9.99 on the 15th, I will shove it where the sun does not shine - hence, no flowers for mamacita!  Why? First you have to be an idiot to buy into this obvious gouging, but also, I feel flowers or gifts on any ol' regular day has more significance than this mad dash to the florists' is.  Besides, $99 could buy me one nice pair of shoes that will not wilt or die.  I love flowers on a nondescript day as they feel so much more special and I feel he was thinking of me, today, on his own volition.   Just no roses with the cheesy baby breaths - so seriously cheesy.  Super bonus: Oh, honey, I want you to relax while I cook dinner, help our "cupids" with homework and put the laundry away.  Yeeeaahaha!  Now we're talking!

Also, a new pair of running sneaks and a new 13.1 magnet for my car, well, might change my mind and get you extra snookie,.....on the 15th of February, of course. 

Wow - take notes!  NOW THAT IS ROMANTIC!

By the way, we did share cards, and yes they were Valentines' Day Cards, but I gave it to him on Friday, the 17th.  STILL HAVE TO TELL HIM THAT HE MEANS THE WORLD TO ME.  Just paid half off and it was not in a pink or red envelope.  That is my hypocritical boycott, but I guess I do have a heart!

Whew, what a couple of few days!

So I finished my first half marathon, the Rock & Roll St. Pete Marathon to be exact.  I ran 13.1 grueling miles in two hours and 19 minutes, in one of the coldest days I have ever experienced in Florida.

Damn those Northerners that showed up to the race wearing hardly a thing for clothes and laughing at us bundled, gloved and scarfed Floridians.

Let's just say their poking fun party ended a short time thereafter.  While in line at the port-o-potty, I overheard them saying...."Holy sh** it's freakin' cold down here! Man! We did not come here for this!"  Oh I was snickering under my scarf.  So go ahead and laugh all you want.  Florida is not only Mickey Mouse, 80 degrees sunshine, umbrella drinks, and beaches.  It is also hurricanes, freeze warnings, panhandling, higher rate of skin cancers and a haven for murderers that make national news on a weekly basis.

So tropical paradise?  Not completely.  Welcome to Tampa.

I have been training for my first half marathon for the past four months.  Had my pace down, was excited and counting down the days, until a few weeks ago when I wished time would stand still.

Dang it, Hootie!  Why can't you be immortal?

The emotional roller coaster of having my cat, whom I had made clear in a previous post, is my most awesomest, beloved, best-thing-that-ever-happened-to-me-other-than-the-birth-of-my-kids-and-sliced sprout-bread, finally came into the station. My sweetheart put an end to Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and peacefully died in my arms on Monday morning- the day after I ran my first half marathon.  Such a combination of emotions.  I felt so empowered and exhilarated because I finished the marathon in good time, but four minutes more than I wanted, but sad because I received a text from Hootie's vet around Mile 7 that said we needed to proceed with the final steps of his life.  I stopped running for a moment to digest the text, got teary eyed and decided to proceed with running because after all I had dedicated this race to him.

I can joke, chuckle at best, but no one will ever see the real hurt.  I cannot stop crying.  I will miss saying his name and him curling up beside me in bed or on the couch.  His presence was felt all around, and still is, I swear I think he is going to meow for his dinner any moment.

Having my sister visiting from Spain for only a week and a half, trying to train for my first half marathon and seeing my cat's health fail miserably, was just too much to handle.  I wanted to be strong so that my sister did not see me in a continual weeping mess, but that is all she got, a crying sister almost the entire time while here.  Just need time to heal.  Such a cry baby!

Godspeed my dear cat!  You rocked my world for 14 years.  Your cancer sucked and I wished I could have done more.  I could not see you suffer any longer.  I will see you again at the foot of the rainbow bridge and we can cuddle for eternity.  I love you and we, (meaning me, the hubs and the kids) miss you so much already.  My son Jac has a great movie he made of you!  He surprised me with that so...I get to see you every time I miss you.

So fat cat, enjoy the catnip, tuna, and sunlit naps...God is an awesome cook, so I have heard, oh, and a bigger plus, you will not have a vet telling you that you need to drop a few pounds (*bonus*).  But please do not forget to check up on us every so often ok?

Oh, and I hope I do not sleep in tomorrow, because you were my alarm clock....it will be weird to see my lamp, picture frame, pen, book, and eyeglasses on my nightstand, exactly where I left them.  Kinda wish you were pushing them off, because that would mean I would have to get up and feed you.

"I'm up, Hoots, I am up."

Nope.  Still gone.  Nightmare real.  Ugh.  This stinks.

Just When You Think All is Swell

So I am excited, you know first half marathon coming up in two days, and everything.  Been training for several months.....now seeing my efforts come to fruition.  Wow...I finally get one of those 13.1 stickers for the back of my car!
Positive vibes flowing, visualizing the finish...me sprinting to the end, meeting my goal.  No wait!  Me exceeding my goal by five minutes,  my running posse and family members cheering for me and all. The flash of the finish line photographers...my first finisher's medal placed around the neck....The only thing I had bugging me was..."what was I going to wear for my first race?"

Then reality comes to punch me right in the gut.  This is going to be a lengthy post.

My sweet beloved cat that I rescued from the animal shelter in 1998, before kids, husband and the two dogs I now own, is dying.  That is a smack in the shins no doubt and it put a screeching halt to any quality training runs this week and some of last.  My heart was not in it because it was getting broken.

Hootie was the older cat in the cold cage hidden in the corner of the gray colored hallway that people walk by to get to the sweet little cutie patootie kittens that are up for adoption in the bright yellow happy kitty room.  How can you not love little kitties?  They are so cute and frisky, and want to play ALL THE TIME!  You can hear a series of "oohs and awwww's" in a loop stream coming from that room.  Now how do you suppose an older cat could compete with THAT?  I was drawn to his eyes as I walked right past his cage, to do as the other twenty people had previously done that day. (I too, had my eyes on a cute little 3-month-old black kitten).  But sweet ol' Hootie, well, he had my number.  I could not stop staring at his sweet chunky face (he weighed all of 24 lbs. then), or how he actually stuck his paw out of the cage and grabbed a hold of my t-shirt as I closely had  to walk by his cage again to go sign the adoption papers for the previously mentioned black kitten.  "Whooaa, I am caught, I am caught!" But I had no idea, yet.

I asked the shelter volunteer helping me, "What's his story?" The saintly volunteer (they are saints, you know) said, "Oooh, him?  Ugh, so sad, he is such a sweet cat, about 2-4 years old, according to his previous owners, I just do not know why he hasn't been snatched up yet, we love him, just a shame!"  Then came the story, while I was extracting his last claw from my t-shirt, about how he has been there for two whole months, that he was too darn sweet to put down and the workers and volunteers just love him but cannot take in one more animal (which is why I could not volunteer or work at an animal shelter because I WOULD BE THAT CRAZY CAT LADY in that show "Hoarders").  But "that dead cat walking" final day was coming because he had been there too long and the pound was getting full of kittens.  Also adding that his previous owners gave him up because "he was too much work."  Gee, seriously? "Too much work...come on, really?!"  I mean, dang, cats are about the easiest pets to own other than a beta fish. They do not need to be walked, they are pretty darn independent animals who bathe themselves.  Just fresh food and water, a quick scoop of the liter box, and a free lap for them to perch and purr on their time, not yours, one yearly visit to the vet and viola!  The McLazy's dropped off their cat at the pound, yet I am surprise they summed up enough energy to get up from the couch and drive him there.  How can you maintain a serious face when they ask you "why are you surrendering your animal?"  Ummm because I am a freaking lazy POS?!  Boy, did they give up a tremendous animal.  Thank God for me!

I left with Hootie instead.  And what about the other black kitty? Well he found another home a few minutes after the "pending adoption" sign was removed.  I would say Hootie adopted me.

Wow, what great 13 1/2 years!  Hootie was the BEST companion EVER! He gave me so, so, so much more than I ever gave him.  Somehow, he just knew how to lift my spirits. He was an old soul.  He was right there when I was down and just kept me company when I was on the computer or watching T.V.  One time, during one of my crying sessions for some bad day of work, he kept pawing at each tear that streamed my face.  No claws, just the soft, warm pink pads of his paws gently wiping each tear as they rolled down my cheek.  Bad day gone.  He was always by the door when we arrived home.  No soon we walked through the door and he would roll completely over to expose his underbelly just begging for those special belly rubs we always greeted him with.  EVERYDAY.  A full 10 - 15 minutes of pure belly rubbing ecstasy.
It was just the three of us then.  We even sent him a postcard when we were away on our honeymoon. Silly, I know.  Soon after, life for Hootie changed.  Even though he openly welcomed little human number 1 and little human number 2, he was okay in taking the back seat.  There were more of us to love on him.  Screaming kids, tail pulling, he took it all in stride.  This was his family and he loved us so.  There was even a present under the tree for him every Christmas.  I would have to say, he was not thrilled at first when we rescued our first pooch, but took to him quickly, and just sighed and did a cat eye roll, when rescued pooch number 2 came drooling in.  But as independent as cats are, they can easily be forgotten at times and pushed aside because daily life for me got busier and busier.  The long belly rubs became quick little pets, if any, and I did not sit long enough anymore to give him a chance to jump and curl up on my lap.  We did continue to sleep together.  Because how else can he torment me at 4:30 a.m. when he wanted to be fed?  "Yo ma! I am hungry!" Loud bellows from a 20+lb cat, echoing through the dark wee morning hours and knocking crap off my nightstand until I say, "I'm UP, Hoots, I am up!"

So here we are.  Several visits to the vet, strange symptoms not typical for cat like diseases. Many tests with mixed results.  Still purring, still looking like himself from the waist up, but cannot seem to make his now swollen hind legs work.  He is slowly slipping away,  I can feel it - I can see it.  Now I know it.  Cancer. Confirmed this past Tuesday.  I had three options: euthanize him right there, do extensive surgery that requires major recuperation just to prolong his life for another mere 4-9 months, and revisit this pain again, or bring him home on heavy doses of pain meds and steroids so we can make him comfortable while we say our final goodbyes - to then bring him back one last time when we get the "sign" that he is ready.  I was told you will know when it is time and I refuse to make him suffer because of any selfishness on my part - because I want him here longer.  Because I love him, I chose the latter.   Mainly because I was given this opportunity to say bye and spend just a tiny bit more time with him while he is comfortable and purring.  Further, my son's birthday is also today and I did not want him to associate this loss on his birthday, it would be too hard for a 9 year old to bear. Telling my kids to thank God for blessing our lives with this angel in cat form and reminding them to enjoy his remaining time with us was so emotionally difficult.  I have not cried this hard in such a long time.  I am drained.  It breaks my heart to write this, because watching your kids hurt and ache along side you is so terribly difficult - but I certainly hope it is a lesson on life and why you need to enjoy each day with gusto.

I love you HOOTIE!  I will be with you to the very end, holding you until your very last breath, until your last purr - I owe you that.  I am dedicating my 13.1 miles on Sunday to you.  Just you.  For all you did for me, for us and for allowing me to love you for these past 13 1/2 years.  Here's to allowing one final, long belly rub.  I am going to miss you so much.