Interesting how that title can refer to so many aspects of life. Unfortunatley for you, Reader, it only has to do with me running. Me running with a dog on a leash.
Jake. Jake Jake Jake! That damn sweet adorable Labrador Retriever with the fuzzy golden face that absolutely glows with delight and is full of all of the best intentions to love one could possibly have in the world. Who could get mad at that face, that excitement, that pure pleasure of being out and about?! I can.
Yesterday I took Jake running with me [again]. He's such a great companion. Most of the time. For a 3 year old (i.e., teenager) Lab, he's really well behaved. Except when you bring him outside. No specific outside... ANY form of outside.
I bought him a lovely designer leather (fake LV) choke collar the third day I was watching him. Because, yes, not only is he a beautiful Labrador but he is also a bit on his teenager-over-the-top-exctited side, so I needed something hip to reign him in, and it had to look hella good like a kick ass dog should. Reign him in I did! He was so mallable! I was so proud! Good boy, Jake!
Good boy until yesterday, that is. Because yesterday we went for a morning 5 mile run, which was only as enjoyable as running can be when you have to look out for some creature else who is so wrapped up in their own excitement that THEY FORGET THEY ARE ATTACHED TO YOU BY A MERE ROPE. So, 2 plus miles in we have passed the footpath and are running on the sidewalk on a most distinguishly expensive road in a most distinguishly expensive locale in Northern California, when good 'ole Jake gets ahead of himself, and ahead of his Master (i.e. ME) and TRIPS ME. And there I am, in my distinguished stride on a distinguished street in a most distinguishly expensive locale, pummeling to the ground because SOMEONE FORGOT WHAT HEEL MEANS, and I am falling, and my knees hit the pavement, and then my hands (barely enough skin enclosed meat to type now), and then my left thigh and then my stomach, which happened to skid at least 2" in a very "slide into home base" manner, accross the asphalt to a not so soft landing of my chin hitting the road. Mother Bugger! That not only sucked, it was embarrassing to face plant whether a tony area or not. Ne'er a Mercedes did stop to see if I was okay. But I got up, brushed off, and started jogging again. With a "grmmph" in my stride of course.
Physically a battering day for me, but I can tell you, Jake heeled perfectly thereafter. He felt really bad, it was apparant. Well, at least he behaved until the next outing. As for me, I dismissed myself from the 12 mile run this morning because I think I bruised my ribs. Or maybe I didn't, but it feels like I have spent the last 6 months like the chick from Terminator II (that means in a jail cell doing sit-ups and getting pysically fit for the end of the world) and my neck is sore and sensitive (that means I need a jacuzzi - right now)! And the road rash on my tumtum ain't so perty either. But who's lookin'? Oh right, that Jewish producer guy. More on him later. I hope. But fyi Aunt Di - my mom luvs him - I told her she was getting the Tribe Vibe - ; )
Anyhoo, I am back in SF after 2 long weeks in Magestic Marin, bruises and all. I'm hoping the bod will be up to snuff tomorrow, since I JUST SIGNED UP FOR THE US HALF MARATHON taking place in November!!!! and I have to contiunue my training. I'm gonna kick ass. I promise! No screwing around this year; I'm already running 20+ miles/week. EZ PZ. And brunch after! Woo hoo. 11/5/06. Save the Date.
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