dang joints - all around

So, my right knee is still deformed and hurting.  The other knee just aches.  And I really, really was thinking about maybe (not really) going to the MD.  But, instead I went to the DVM - because Gwen was limping.  She hated it as much as I hate the MD:

I tried to crowd her x-ray to get a dual diagnosis for the $49 exam fee, but, apparently, all doctors are against me.  He did glance at my knee and say "wow, you need to get that evaluated."  Excellent.  The good news is that Gwen is just probably older than I think, has a shoulder strain, and osteoarthritis.  We're now on the same meds - a ton of 'motrin' and joint juice (glucosamine/chondrontrin) - but hers is beef flavored and mine just tastes like crud.

So, to heck with the docs - I ran the inaugural Alamo 13.1 half marathon on Sunday.  It was a nice race along routes I usually run, but it was hot.  I wore compression tights for my knee, even though I dislike tights almost as much as doctors - especially in the heat.  But I did get a fabulous pic!

It was around mile 4-6, and I heard the gal in the blue shorts talking
Blue shorts (to friend):  There's a photographer, pull your shorts down and smile
Me (conversation bombing):  No, no - you pose.  Like THIS!
Photographer: AWESOME.  you rock!

So, that made me feel better/ignore the knee for a bit -- until we climbed Trinity University.  Even worse was the descent.  I won't lie - the last 3 miles hurt like heck.

 But I made it and was supplied with my favorite painkiller - Alamo Ale (thanks, Eugene & Jackie!).

the bling made it hurt less too

And then I iced and rested.  Next up - 2 5ks this weekend.  Because I'm not sure which I dislike more: doctors or my right knee.

Thanks to JohnO, Yvonne, and Brightroom for the pics

Back to it - home, running, and critters

So, wow - what happened?  I flew back on Monday - in from the CHI marathon, whirl-wind tour of SE WI, 20th HS reunion, and assorted craziness.  And my head is still spinning. 

But, I ran the Alamo Beer Race #4 (15k) on Saturday and felt great.  Which you cannot tell from these pics.

At the start - (Kent is shamelessly promoting the Santa Antonio 5k on December 3.  If you are in or near San Antonio, you MUST RUN it - in a (provided) Santa suit.)

And then there was the run

I was actually feeling pretty dang good - no GI issues, no 26+ miles to run, and hitting a sub-10:00 pace with no problems.  But, as my buddy, Jenna, pointed out - these finish line pics are AWESOME.

"So what DID I run that in?"

"Damn, that slow?"

"well, heck, carry the 1, divide by 60 - not so so bad"

I'm so good at hiding my emotions.

And then, it was off to Dia de los Perros  I was so busy preparing my costume for the Dia de los Muertos run  that I didn't exercise due diligence in constructing dog costumes.  So, Gwen was a lion and Dingo was a jaguar (dogs dressed as big cats - get it?)  (they have tails and ears)

 Dingo with her brindle buddy, Cappy

 Dingo teaching Cappy how to knock over my buddy, Dulce

 Gwen teaching a trainer how to give her treats even if she fakes 'down'

The remains of the leopard.

thanks to Scallywompus, SA Photographers, Kevin Saunders, and Dulce Bares for the pics.

Next up: (maybe) cruiser ride of Eastside cemeteries, last zoo run of 2011, Dia de los Muertos 8k, and Eastside cemeteries running tour - and that's all between Tuesday-Saturday. 

Pit-iful

I received this article in the mail from my friend, Jenna, who talked me into "fostering" (forever) a pit bull named Gwen almost a year and a half ago. Gwen and I are very happy for all the rescued pups - all dogs deserve good homes. But it looks like Gwen may need to buff up before hitting the cover of Sports Illustrated:

Blue

I love blue. My car is "blazing blue." My grad class ring has a cobalt stone. Most of my coffee cups, cooler, lunch box, you name it are royal blue. In those dumb "get to know your friends" chain emails, I respond that if I were a crayon color, it would be cornflower blue (Crayon's version of cobalt). So, my Mom came down before Thanksgiving and painted an accent wall a lovely lovely blue. She has mad painting skills. And Gwen the pitoodle has mad sneaky skills. I tried to take this picture in action - but I couldn't interrupt the couch infiltration to find the camera. Anyway, it took the Gwendog a good 5 minutes to sneak, muscle by muscle, her 50 pound frame up on that sofa right next to Simba the I-hate-all-creatures-but-Sally sleeping cat. Well played Gwen. And thanks Mom!

Bibs and turds

Like many other runners, I keep my race bibs. They're a journal of sort, where I record the race details on the back, and the real race details in the condition of the bib (this last Ragnar 180+ mile relay bib is TRASHED). I used to tape them around my kitchen in my last apartment - on top of each other after awhile. Now that I'm residing in the cottage, I thought it would be neat to get a chinese screen-thingy with corkboard to post them on. Luckily, my Mom is an interior designer and found this for me:

It serves a treble purpose. 1) I have a place for all my bibs and awards (except for trophies) that's a little less tacky than taping them around the kitchen; 2) it covers the cats' litter boxes and I giggle every time they politely step behind the screen to do their business; and 3) alerts me when the cat-poop eating pitoodle tries to sneak a cat turd "treat" (ewww - the medals clank and I yell "Gwen - ewwww"). Gwen the turd-eating pitoodle - ewwww

Anyway, I know I'm not alone in this hoarding of bibs. An almost-elite running buddy of mine stacks them on top of each other and records the height, like tracking his children's height over the years. Certain family members think I'm a little race-addicted, but I just love the shiny medals - and my bibs.

My bodyguard and future linebacker

I got home today and watched this on the news:

http://www.woai.com/news/local/story.aspx?content_id=81cbd219-7a0f-42df-9e33-f10c9520e566

I'm not sure where exactly on Babcock the man attempted to kidnap the two women, but I do know that I ran up Babcock, past the Shell station, and back on Saturday for my ill-advised run to work. One of the women outran the man, which I hope that I too would be able to do.

So, today I wasn't taking any chances and ran with my bodyguard, Gwen the pitoodle. We set out for 3 miles but it was hot and, apparently, it's even hotter when you are dark grey and furry. I got the look which was previously posted below in the reenactment. So, we trotted about 2 miles and returned to the yard, where Gwen got her new toy - a football.

She really tore into it. Literally - it's pretty flat right now. I'm not sure whether it was her reaction to Brett Favre asking to be released by the Packers or whether she was practicing so that she could join her "cousins" in the 2025 Packers starting offensive line. Here are her future teammates.

Just don't discriminate against her 'cause she's a girl. She can really tuck the ball and run.