Enjoy the ride.
Rock the weekend! And some toast!
Since the time for creating this little literary piece of genius is extremely limited today, I’m going to blow through this like the tornado my brain looks like. So hang on. It might get scary.
Wonder Mutt – I walked in the door yesterday to what sounded like a lion trying to hack up a hairball. Apparently Lucy thought it would be nice to leave us with a parting gift – aka kennel cough. Off to the vet we go this afternoon. On the up side, Lucy did find her furever home and went home with her new humans last night. #Adoptionwin
Brooks Ghost 7s – Cranked out my first three miles in the new dogs last night and may I say they rock? Okay, thanks. They ROCK! Of course mine look much better buried in Beecause Charms bling. Just sayin’.
Running – I am happy to report that the pavement and I have been getting along pretty well lately. I was actually able to crank out the aformentioned 3 miler with a training PR average mile of 9:12. May sound like zombie pace to most of you, but for this turtle, it may as well have been Greased Lightning.
Laser therapy – Since I’m going no holds barred with trying to keep that nasty ITBS from making a reappearance, I’m trying something new. Twice a week, I get beat up for a few minutes by a massage therapist (aka retired member of the WWF), followed by a few minutes of getting zapped by this thing.
I even get to wear what looks like yellow cataract glasses while I’m getting zapped. Fashion score to say the least. I may even try to market them for the fashion conscious runner. #not
So that’s my brain vomit for the day. My apologies if it gave you motion sickness. Just send me your PayPal information and I’ll send you a bottle of Pepto right away. I’m helpful like that.
Enjoy the ride.
Ever have one of those weeks where it feels like you’re living in the middle of a Disney ride? How do you keep from going completely insane?
I’m happy to say that not only have we
harangued welcomed 2 more victims blends into our fold, (welcome Kellie and Nicole!)I think we’ve actually been doing pretty well as far checking in with each other and keeping the healthy train on the tracks. Well, mostly. Everyone’s entitled to a few minor derailments every so often.
Remember those pants I was complaining about a month ago? It’s just a tiny bit, but yeah – they’re looser! Can I get a big Black Dog whoo hoo?! Technically, it may only be a smidge looser, but I’ll take what I can get. Plus, with our weekly challenges of drinking plenty of water, no fried foods, and incorporating fruit and veggies into every meal, it’s making our journey into Healthy Land just a little bit easier. Of course, we’re also masters at this:
I think we can all agree though that this has been a fun trip with plenty of side roads into Twitter crazy land. On any given day Kellie is rationalizing the veggies in cream cheese counting as a vegetable serving, Lisa taunting us with promises of Mars Bars Chocolate Cookie thingies, Rae torturing us with gorgeous beach pics, or Nicole making us laugh so hard with her snarkiness that we almost mess our drawers. What more can a girl ask for? Oh wait I know – get everyone (almost) to sign up for another Disney race AND start thinking about flying all over the continental United States for another half marathon. I can so see where this accountabilibuddy relationship is going…
So if you’re looking for a bunch of silly chicas who keep each other in line (mostly), and have a great time doing it, then come join us. We’d love to
suck you in welcome you to the cool kids club. Really. We would. Right ladies? There’s just one entrance question: do you consider cupcakes to be a food group? All rationalizations welcome.
Enjoy the ride.
Want to join the #Chewsday Chicas? Follow us on Twitter!
Ever wonder why dogs always seem to be so content?
It doesn’t matter if it’s sunny, raining, hot, cold, the stock market is thriving or crashing, if you’re thin, heavy, short, or tall – dogs only want four things: food, sleep, nooky, and companionship. Mainly yours. It’s the most simple, and most beautiful way to look at life.
I often wonder what’s going on in the Wonder Mutt’s head. Daddy insists there’s nothing more than the occasional Scooby Doo sounding huh? I like to think she’s somewhat more of a thinking dog. She has proven to be quite smart when it suits her. Like when she runs outside and squats for .5 seconds and runs back in knowing she’ll score a biscuit. As though I would be fooled into thinking she actually did her business in that flash of time. Okay, call me a fool. A BIG one. Who wouldn’t be for this face?
If there’s one thing Calypso is, it’s a happy dog. Dogs who so long for our companionship, sit patiently by the front door all day while we’re at work, just waiting for that moment we walk in. And anyone who thinks dogs can’t tell time have their head in the sand. Wonder Mutt has her furry dupa parked right inside the door at the same time every day and doesn’t move until I decide to show up. Unless Dad’s home and just threw down dinner. Yeah, no competing with vittles.
However, I don’t think there’s much that makes the Wonder Mutt more happy than when she’s spending time with her humans, either while they’re running, swimming, or just hanging out on the couch. And honestly, neither are we.
So the next time you find yourself all worked up in a tizzy over something that more than likely is really stupid, take a step back for just a second. Look at it as though you were peering down a long, furry muzzle. Can you eat it, play with it, sleep on it, or…well. you know….with it? If not, then do what every smart mutt in the world does with their problems – pee on it and walk away. Seriously. Always seems to work in this back yard. And front yard. And across the street. And up the block, And around the corner. You get the idea.
Enjoy the ride.
Ever try looking at life through your dog’s eyes? What do you think goes on in their heads?
Enjoy the ride.
Have a great weekend my friends. And watch out for gaseous lemurs.
Remember this evil little blobborama?
Well, let me tell ya, the man responsible for putting a name to this evil little dude, has found a way to beat this blobbo into submission. On September 20 and 21, Matthew Inman, Mr. Oatmeal himself, has inspired a race weekend, including options to run either a 10k, half, or full marathon. As soon as news of the races hit the web, Blerch fans went wild. Credit cards were flying out of wallets, mouses were being clicked at the speed of light, and the hungry little Blerch started rubbing his twiggy little hands together, hungry for a whole new herd of victims. But unlike many a disappointed runDisney fan, who decided to think about hitting the register button, only to end up beating their head against the wall in entry denial angst, Mr. Oatmeal decided to add a virtual Blerch race option. Oh, happy day!
You know where this is going, right? You betcha! This Black Dog jumped on that register button faster than the Wonder Mutt can inhale a biscuit. And since I conveniently have a half marathon distance plugged into my Wine and Dine training plan, why not just make it an easy peasy race pace day? And check out the swag!
Since I’m starting to really get into this whole virtual racing thing, what better way to add to the bling collection? And really, who wouldn’t want have the oh-so-coveted Blerch monster medal hanging on their medal rack? Hello awesome bling sweetness! I’m so excited I could just, well….
So if you feel like being one of the cool Beat The Blerch kids, sign up for one of the virtual races here. Go. Now. Go! It’s the only way we can beat this little sucker into submission.
Enjoy the ride.
Have you ever done a virtual race?
As I had a complete blonde moment yesterday and totally forgot to write my daily piece of literary genius – okay, maybe not so much – please indulge me for a moment to tell you why.
On occasion, I get the opportunity to help out with an awesome organization, Labrador Retriever Rescue of Florida. Like many rescue groups, this organization rescues, rehabs, and finds permanent homes for Labs that have been surrendered or abandoned by their owners, left in shelters, or in this recent case, dumped off in the Everglades to basically become gator bait.
Lady, or as I like to call her, Lucy, was just that. She was found wandering around in the Everglades a few weeks ago and was turned into the Miami Dade Animal Shelter. After two weeks no one claimed her – which is hard to believe as judging by the condition she’s in, someone was taking care of her. Maybe too much. Let’s just say she’s a little, well, plump.
It’s not hard to see that Lucy has already had at least one litter, so the wonderful people at the shelter made sure to fix her up lickety split so she wouldn’t have to deal with any more, let’s just say, overly friendly boys hanging around.
Lab Rescue sent a volunteer to evaluate Lucy at the shelter and it didn’t take long to see that she would make somebody a great pet. And so the rescue train left the station, en route to the temporary foster home of Casa de Black Dog. And as you can plainly see, she hates it here. Really. Hates it.
The only down side to all of this, neither human nor canine have gotten any sleep for the past three nights as Miss Lucy seems to have a possible case of kennel cough. Poor thing sounds like she can’t stop trying to hack up a hairball and it only gets worse at night. Luckily though, thanks to generous veterinarians who are only too willing to help out rescue groups, Lucy will be on the road to recovery later today. And Casa de Black Dog may actually be able to catch up on a few winks. Winks which I am only to glad to give up to help such sweet, gentle souls like this one find a permanent loving home.
So the next time you’re looking for a furry friend, be sure to check out your local rescue groups. You never know, you’re new BFF may only be a mouse click away. And then you can spend the rest of your days getting THIS face whenever you settle down with your nightly bowl of Moose Tracks.
Enjoy the ride.
Where did you get your mutt from? Would you consider a rescue?
All of us here at Black Dog Runs Disney – human and canine – would like to extend our sincerest congratulations to Germany for their HUGE win over Argentina for the title of 2014 FIFA World Cup Champions!
My conundrum now - NOW what am I supposed to watch??? Oh yeah, hot guys in tight shorts with great legs! Who’s with me?!
Enjoy the ride.
Who were you rooting for on Sunday? Do you follow the Tour de France? Do you appreciate guys with great legs?
As told by….. me!
Let’s just put it out there. Runners talk funny, eat funny, act funny, and occasionally even look funny. We admit it. Freely. Those of you who haven’t as yet embraced the aches, pains, and sporadic gastrointestinal distresses (?), allow me to impart to you a little secret. We’re all nuts.
Okay, well, that pretty much covers it.
What’s that? You want to know more? Are you sure? All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Language: We spew out terms like intervals, tempo, LSD’s, tech, pronate, PR, PF, ITBS, and my particular favorite – fartlek – like it’s a well-studied foreign language. To the non-running outsider it may sound like some kind of alienspeak. Have no fear my non-mileage-challenged friends. We don’t really know what we’re talking about either. It just sounds like we do.
Eating: The simplest of tasks can take on a whole new meaning, especially the closer you get to race day. Every little gram of carbs, fat, and protein is counted and hoarded like me and cartons of Moose Tracks. Strange sounding items suddenly start appearing in your pantry and fridge. Items with names like Shot Bloks, Honey Stingers, Sport Beans and Gu. Gu??? Don’t worry though, if you accidentally throw some Gu in with your spaghetti sauce, it’ll just make it a little thicker. And sweeter. And nasty. Yeah, just go ahead and make a new batch. You have permission to throw it at your runner’s head. It’ll make for great interval training.
Quirks: Let’s be honest, we’ve all got’em. I have a thing about keeping the closet and pantry doors closed. The hubby has to make a sticky note for everything. Absolutely EVERYTHING. Even the dog drags her blanket off her bed before she’ll lay on it. Runners are no exception. Just watch when we’re getting ready on race morning. GPS? Check. Shoes double knotted? Check. Lucky socks? Yup. Underwear that you PR’d in at your last race that you may or may not have washed since? I’ll leave that one up to you.
I could go on at length at our need to discuss every injury, brand of shoe, latest playlist update, or the best race for food and fan support, but I’m sure you have much better things to do and I don’t have that much patience. Suffice it to say, if you live with a runner, we’re a moody, quirky, somewhat number obsessed bunch. We’ve created our own language, caused an entire industry of tech clothing to be created, and bring new meaning to the term “portable food”. We openly discuss gastric problems with complete strangers, whom we don’t see as strangers, simply because we’ve been talking with them online for months, sometimes even years. We know their birthday, their spouse’s birthday, their kid’s birthday, and even their dog’s favorite napping spot. We know all about Aunt Martha’s arthritis, the neighbor’s latest domestic, and how the in-laws are visiting next weekend. AGAIN. We offer advice, encouragement, a kick in the dupa when it’s needed and a pat on the back when it’s not. And always, ALWAYS, a shoulder to cry on. That’s just how we roll.
Enjoy the ride.
Is your significant other completely mystified by the world of running?
There’s a few things I’ve been wanting to get off my mind. And lucky you get to be the recipient of said brain vomit. Feeling honored?
Hang on…this could get ugly.
NBA free agency. People – Get. Over. It. When these guys want you to know where they’re going to play, THEY WILL TELL YOU. Until then, try talking about something else. It’s not like there’s nothing else going on in the world of sports. Perhaps you might have heard about a little soccer match in Brazil or some hellacious hills in Europe?
The Great Male/Female Dupa Debate. Always a great way to pass the time on the ARC trainer. The hubs and I have very VERY differing ideas on what constitutes an attractive lower region. Don’t misunderstand me, it’s not like we go around checking out every butt in existence. We do, however, have some spirited debates about the male species obsession with said anatomical part. Take for instance, yesterday. Said hubby spies a rather rotund bottom at the gym and voices his “appreciation” for said dimensions. I, on the other hand, responded with a look not unlike this:
Grocery Shopping. It’s simple. I’m not allowed. I throw stuff in the cart that’s….wait for it….NOT ON THE LIST. Oh, the horror. Plus I would buy everything at Whole Foods aka Whole Paycheck putting said aforementioned dupas in the poor house. Which would more than likely result in me getting above noted look from said hubby.
Mornings. This is simple. I hate them. Violently. Hubby wakes up like this. ‘Nuff said.
Golf, Tennis, Vollyball. I’d rather have my fingernails pulled out with pliers than have to watch these sports. On the flip side though, as I always like to see the positive in everything, these rock if you suffer from insomnia.
And the one that I’m sure many of you can relate to…The Great Peanut Butter Debate.
Creamy. Hands down.
Enjoy the Ride.
Anything you feel like confessing this fine Tuesday?
Oh yes, it’s a Monday. After a long weekend. And this Black Dog is dragging doggy dupa today. So to hold you over until my next brain vomit – no worries, you’ll only have to wait until tomorrow – please allow Grumpy Cat to get you through your day. If you can manage to get your head up off your keyboard.
Enjoy the ride.
What kind of shenanigans did you get into this long holiday weekend?
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