Week Something Or Other: Duct Tape And Bubble Gum

I am currently being held together by bubble gum and duct tape. Maybe not even duct tape… maybe Scotch tape. 

In week 14, with just 6 weeks to go, I was in the midst of dealing with horrible shin splints that didn’t seem to be letting up. I decided to just tough it out and (sort of) ignore it. It seemed like foam rolling, stretching, and using my TENS unit was the best solution and I would just have to deal with the pain while I ran. I gave my elliptical the middle finger on a beautiful almost-Spring day and took Cooper to Mines Falls, our favorite local trail running spot, while Noah napped (yes, Adam was home). 

Precisely 1.8 miles into our beauteous run I misjudged my stride, or maybe the root came out of nowhere, or maybe I was too in to Rock The Casbah, and my ankle snap*crackle*popped like some g-damn Rice Krispies and I did a superman dive into the pine needles. Poor Cooper stopped short and looked genuinely confused, then came to stand over and crying and looking around. All I said was “…fuck.” My first thought was “there goes my race”, my second thought was “maybe I don’t have to go to work on Monday”. Thankfully as of right now only of those statements was definitely true. 

I was able to pull myself off the trail a bit and committed to DEFINITELY not make a scene and have my ass carried out of there. I silently prayed no one would run past me and force me to share my dilemma. Now, I did something quite similar a few months and I was able to actually continue my run (albeit slowly) and then just ACE wrap it and return to normalcy. I’m convinced moving actually helped it and staved off some of the swelling.  I was able to get myself up after a few minutes and to put weight on it. It didn’t feel great, but I know enough basic wilderness first aid to know it wasn’t broken and I had the ability to get myself out on my own accord. I was on a loop trail on the opposite side of my car, so it made no difference if I kept going or turned back. I soldiered on and stood at the next main intersection contemplating my fate. I could go left and go directly back to my car, or go right and continue on a longer loop. I knew that furthering my mileage and the impact of my ankle could totally screw me, but I was doing okay after about a half mile and decided to keep going like I did last time. The loop on the left side of the photo was mileage I didn't really need to do. 

Bad decisions in action!

It wasn’t the best idea. I ended up cutting the loop a bit short and was able to slowly jog on it with a very modified stride. It was faster than dragging my sorry ass along. What should have been about 1.8-2.0 miles back to my car ended up being about 2.6 miles. The extra half mile was totally my fault, and unfortunately it wasn’t the magic fix that it was last time.  We spent the following day bouncing around between our hospital’s weekend hours office, the ER, and radiology for X-rays. The doctor I saw earlier in the day told me they didn’t see anything too concerning but to stay on crutches for a few days. I stayed out of work for 2 days and hung out on the couch popping painkillers and watching the swelling and bruising go down. My primary care office called after my doctor got a chance to read the X-rays and shared the bummer news. I had an avulsion fracture (aka a bone chip), which basically means a ligament or tendon (or something) likely pulled away a piece of the bone during the epic superman dive of failure, essentially “chipping” it off. I was told to take at least two weeks off of any high impact exercise, and at least a week and a half off from even getting on the elliptical.

Wonderful. 

I followed their order and eventually got back to being able to get around without crutches. I’ve been able to bear weight on it just fine but get I got pain with range of motion, so I can’t really get my full running stride. I can run on it gently but it’s sort of a weird, sad shuffle. 
During this time I was doing a lot more sitting than I normally do, and my back pain flared up enough that I was on the verge of asking for a shot of morphine. I had enough and booked an appointment with my orthopedist. I’ve been through many rounds of PT and tried lots of alternative methods for pain management, all of which will alleviate the pain for a little while (though never take it away entirely). My doc recommended trying cortisone shots. I’ve had an epidural cortisone injection (basically you get an epidural injection of the meds in a hospital setting), but thankfully he was okay with me just doing an injection into the sore spots and not into the spine. I didn’t realize it was done in the office, so I got a semi-surprise dual shot of cortisone to my lower back on Thursday. I was told it would take 2-4 days to kick in and to take it easy in the meantime. I promptly drove to my volunteer community service day and shoveled gardens beds for 3 hours. What can ya do?

So I’m back to square one-ish again, dealing with a very sore back for another day or two while the injection sites “cool down” a bit and the cortisone starts working. Also dealing with the side effects of taking steroids, such as profusely sweating at night and feeling super dehydrated. I’ve got less than a month until my Spartan race and almost exactly a month until my 10k. 

Sigh. 

It sort of feels impossible at times, even though I know it is not. I just want to have enough time to get in decent enough shape to enjoy the experience of both races, and it feels like that time is quickly running out. I'm hoping that enough time on the elliptical and enough yoga will make it all possible. **FINGERS CROSSED SO HARD**.

Week... something? I lost track.

I’m back on the hot mess train! What else is new?

This time it’s not the fault of the flu, explosive diarrhea, Nor’Easters, or ice storms. This time my own body has betrayed me, and I’m very surprised it took this long to attack. I say “betrayed me” slightly in jest, because really it’s not that bad. But it is. It’s shin splints, and they SUCK. 

I had very mild shin splints with my old shoes, I mostly attributed it to the way that I was running. Then I remembered that it was probably 100 times worse because I wasn’t stretching regularly before runs. For some reason it just wasn’t part of my routine, which sounds stupid coming from someone that loves yoga so much. It’s just that stretching isn’t always at the forefront of your mind when you choose to get up before the sun and the son and stumble around the house at 5:15am trying to find your headphones. Stupid. 

Adam made a comment about how my running shoes looked worn out and it may be time to replace them, and you can bet your booty I jumped on that opportunity without a moment’s hesitation. Adam also never approves of any non-essential purchase I make that exceeds $2.99, so to have his go-ahead for a $100+ purchase was amazing. We went to our old stomping grounds at REI and I got the newest version of the Brooks Ghost shoes I had been using. The footwear sales specialist in me is screaming at the customer-me in that moment, because I stupidly didn’t check the size of my other Brooks shoes and ended up getting a pair that was a half size too small. They felt fine in the store but after a few days of using then I knew they weren’t going to work. The first long run I took in them was my longest road-run since I started my plan, and I felt great in the moment but then felt like my legs were going to fall off the next day. 

I can’t remember if I’ve ever had really intense shin splints in the past, but I think these may be the worst I’ve had. For a solid few days I couldn’t walk without pain (I could walk, it was just uncomfortable) and my shins hurt to even the lightest touch. Even a slow jog across a crosswalk resulted in the feeling that someone was whacking my shins with hot metal rods. Big bummer. 

Newest fashion statement - Ice Pack Leg

The Internet made me feel like I was totally screwed, because it (rightly) informed me that if I kept running on bad shin splints I could eventually get stress fractures in my tibia or fibula, which would then require 6 weeks of rest. I’m now about 6 weeks from the race and I’ve got a Spartan run the weekend before that, so 6 weeks off was not an option. I took the advice of friends and got to town massaging, foam rolling, and icing, and I took a few days off of high-impact stuff and stuck to yoga and my elliptical. Let me tell you, 45 minutes on the elliptical in my dark, cold sun room is about as exciting as watching damn paint dry. It was in those few days that I finally knew that I enjoyed running. I was itching to go out for early morning runs, to be chasing Cooper and the sun before the world woke up, to feel energized even after I spent a whole run saying “this sucks this suck this sucks this sucks”. 

Cooper and I hit Mines Falls, our favorite local trail running spot, this week with my well-broken-in trail runners and a plan to take it easy. We ended up running about 60% of the loop at about 60% running effort. I sang the high praises of at-home PT, because my shins hurt but definitely not so badly that I couldn’t run. I’ve run or walked just about every loop in that trail system, but I wanted to do the entire perimeter to see what the distance was, and low and behold it was almost exactly a 10k. It did wonders for my mental state, because for the first time I had the confidence that I will be able to race that distance and enjoy it. I also started to feel silly for ever doubting myself. It’s always hard to see the end when you’re at square one, convinced you’re about to drop dead form a heart attack if you take even one more running stride. But three months ago I despised running entirely and gave myself a pat on the back for running a mile without stopping and now I’m enjoying it… while also simultaneously not? It’s weird. I don’t know. But it was a great moment.


I’m hoping to get back on my training plan for REAL next week. I ordered two different pairs of compression sleeves for my legs, and I’m hoping that helps. I used compression sleeves the last time I was running regularly and they did help, but I’ve moved approximately 3,201 times since then and wouldn’t be able to find them if you paid me. I’ve also got my fancy new shoes in the correct side on their way, so once those arrive I will be the sleekest motherfucker in Southern New Hampshire. Just you watch. 

Weeks 10 & 11: Oh Shit

Welcome to my sickness blog, where I just rehash boring stories of me (and my household) being plagued by every form if sickness every few weeks. 

A week of perpetual sinus headaches and a facuet of boogers had me down for the count. It also coincided with a particularly busy week of work, absurd week of schoolwork, and very little time for rest. I had a good 'ol fashioned 6 minute meltdown, as we moms allow for ourselves every now and then, and tried to keep my head above water. I was out of any physical activity for a solid week. I finally hit the point where I realized if I used my sluggishness and stuffy nose as a reason to not exercise then I would probably not run again until May. I finally got back to yoga on Wedesnday and got a slow run in with Cooper today, and actually felt semi-okay. Semi being the key word.

I'm officially in the second half of my training plan and not feeling *that* much better about my ability. I've never doubted that I will be able to finish the race, it's more about how much I can enjoy the experience. I can drag my ass around a 10k loop, but I don't want to just drag my ass. One thing that did make me feel better was scrolling through my Strava (an app I use to track my runs). I used Strava back when I was bike commuting in Boston and got back on it once we got Cooper and I was going out for walks/runs every day. I scrolled back to the beginning and was happy to find that when I was doing things like this:

AKA, very in shape

I was also running paces like this:

Turns out me gaining a bunch of weight during my pregnancy and being a slug behind a desk isn't the problem! I'm just a shitty slow runner!

I say that in jest, but only kind of. It's a good reminder to myself that - Oh Yeah! - I was a sprinter, never a distance runner. And yes, 1.3 miles is distance for someone that competed in the 100m sprint. 

Slow running paces don't necessarily mean you're out of shape. Also, your weight may not mean you're out of shape. I've actually found it so freakin' liberating to stop weighing myself and start putting mental practice into being happy with my body now while still striving for what I want it to be. I listened to an AMAZING podcast episode with Jessamyn Stanley, hilarious yoga teacher, on my new favorite show Unladylike. She makes a great point that any body can do almost anything. She says she often gets people commenting/writing to her saying "I didn't know fat people could do yoga!" And that's not meant as an insult - they are saying that they didn't think people with bigger bodies could even do yoga, get into certain poses, would be accepted in a yoga class, etc. The episode is great for so many reasons, but it helped me remember that the look and shape of your body doesn't prohibit you from doing things. You may have to do things a little differently sometimes, but who cares. What's more important is how you feel in your body, and what you do if you don't feel comfortable. The harder work is mental, not physical. 

Song of the week: Rythym is a Dancer by Breathe Carolina, Dropgun, & Kaleena Zanders

For some reason this song reminded me of La Bouche and I had to go down a long black hole into the weird techno era of the mid-90s

LA DA DA DEE DA DA DA DA..... 

Weeks 8 & 9 - I'm Throwing My Scale Off A Cliff

Yeah. It's official. I'm over weighing myself every week. I'm at the predictable part of my weight loss / training plan when I say "THE SCALE IS JUST A SOCIETAL CONSTRUCT ANYWAY WHAT IS WEIGHT ANYWAY WHO CARES JUST LOVE YOUR BODY".

Okay, maybe not that extreme. But for real, I know I go through this shit every time, and I'm back in my predictable place, but I'm just so sick of being super bummed out about gaining a pound or two when I have PMS or eat too many bagels. It's dumb. I wish I didn't get so frustrated by it, but I do, and if I can't be okay with it then I just need to stop weighing myself. The end. 

I don't mean this to turn into a big 'ol rant about my weight, so I'm going to leave it how I left it in my negotiation with myself - stick to the calorie plan, stick to my training plan, weigh myself after my race and see what happens. Once I stopped weighing myself last week I was able to actually look in the mirror and SEE the change in my body, which is something I wasn't really focused on when I was hyper-sensitive about the number on the scale. I'm torn because the number does really matter to me, but if I can't use it constructively then I don't think I can use it at all. So, SEE YA SCALE!

In other news, I am still running around south Nashua with a dog in tow and we are both happier about the warmer weather. One day it hit the mid-50's during a short run for Cooper and I and he acted like we were running through a volcano. What kind of dog from Alabama can't handle a mild day? Jeesh.

I'm happy to say that I still feel like my body is going to explode when I run but I am somehow improving my pace with almost every single outing. I finally hit a sub-12 minute pace! Of course I've run faster miles and have for a while, but my average has been in the 12 minute mile range for a few weeks now. I know that's really slow and unimpressive in the running world, but you're talking to a sprinter, here. I would basically drag my feet and arms on the ground groaning when we had to a run ONE LAP around the track for warm-ups in track. ONE LAP. 

Finally!

It probably shouldn't have taken me this long, but I've started to realize that I have to stick with the plan no matter what. For the first month or so I would take my "off" days on Friday because I was tired from the week and didn't want to get up early Friday morning.  Sort of an okay-excuse, but not that great. I would use it on a day that didn't really need it, and then sometimes my week would blow up or Adam would have to work on the weekend and I suddenly was stuck with my elliptical instead of running outside (huge difference for me). Or I would get sick and not be able to do anything. Or my entire HOUSE WOULD GET SICK and I would be running the ship trying to keep everything afloat. The moral of the story: don't use preference to take a day off when you don't need to, because then you might be stuck with *life happening* and have no other choice. 

I'm almost to the halfway point, and my main concern isn't if I can do it or not. It's that I'll wake up the day of and just be "off". That I'll have one of those days when I don't really feel like running - my back hurts, I'm tired, I'm bloated, whatever. I want to be able to enjoy it, and I know it's going to be hard for me anyway without my running partner (Cooper). Le sigh. For now, we celebrate the fact that...

Another month bites the dust! With a check mark in every box! Hell Yeah!

Weight check in: Who Cares

Song of the week: Runnin' Down A Dream by Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers - such a fun one to run to!

Weeks 6 & 7 - Who run the world? GIRLS.

Week 6 was.. well.. just meh. I’m freakin’ tired, guys. Just plain ‘ol tired. I felt like I barely made any progress in week 6. There were more elliptical days than I would have preferred, I continued to not eat so great, and I wasn’t super into my work out. I missed yoga again because crappy weather kept me out of work and home with Noah for the day on Wednesday, and that makes three weeks in a row when I’ve missed one of my two weekly classes. It was such an uneventful week I barely have anything else to say. I also suffered from “brick foot” for most of the week. Brick foot is a term I made up, and I hate when it happens. It’s almost like my entire lower legs cramping-but not. I get this sensation that my lower legs and feet are useless and my feet feel like bricks, and then I’m just sort of flopping them through the stride instead of using those muscles. It doesn’t necessarily hurt or hinder me, it just feels weird and bad.

I started this week with more weight gain, which is disappointing to say the least. I kinda knew it before I stepped on the scale. I didn’t feel like I had lost anything and I was afraid I would have gained, and I was right. I went from 171.6 to 173, and it made me feel like I took one step forward and two steps back.

On a different note, I also started off week 7 realizing that things are finally getting more difficult and will continue to until my race. Something about 2-3 miles or 25-30 minute runs seemed so innocent and doable. I’ve been comfortable with the 5k distance, even if I am slow. This week started off with a 4 mile run and I realized “shit… that’s more than 50% of the distance of the race”. 4 miles isn’t even that far, but something about going from 3 miles to 4 seemed daunting. As with most things that seem daunting, it went fine. My pace continued to progress and I only thought my lungs were collapsing once.

I thought I was set up for a *normal* week, and then the flu hit our house. Adam has finally learned the lesson I have been trying to teach him for 4 years - JUST GET THE DAMN FLU SHOT. I was on super-mom mode all week caring for him, Noah, the doggie, trying to keep our house together, attempting to feed everyone, and get started on my new courses. I let Adam be miserable and sick for a few days before I said "Honey..... have we learned our lesson????????"

Needless to say, I was freakin' exhausted. I was hoping I would get over the energy slump in week 6, but it only exaggerated. I was able to do all of my training plan, though, even got in a slow jog on a day I was convinced I was getting the flu, too. Cooper needed a walk, I wanted to get out of the germ infested house, everyone was sleeping, so I put the monitor on max volume next to Adam's head and said "screw it, if I collapse then I'll just use the cool emergency call feature on my phone". I kid, I kid. It actually felt pretty good to go out for a slow jog and enjoy it rather than going for speed/distance. I also successfully evaded the flu and Noah only got a cold (we both got our flu shots, ADAM). 

I suppose the good news is that after the 4 mile run I finally felt like I could run the 10k tomorrow and not die. I think getting past the 50% mark is the biggest hurdle. It seems impossible when you're only running 2 miles at a time, but continually improving and feeling okay-ish at a distance that's more than halfway there makes it seem so much more doable. 

Song of the week: Run The World (Girls) by Beyonce - Ladies, if you need to motivate yourself to do literally anything, put this song on and kill it. Works every time. Also, if you watch the video, please note my favorite moment at 2:31 when she hikes up her boobs. Girl, YES. 

Weight check in: 173... bummer. 

Week 5 Midweek Special - BUMMED OUT.

Guys. I am supremely bummed out.

This is the first week in my training plan that I haven’t lost weight, and it’s kind of a crummy way to start week 5. Boooooooooooooooooooooo.

I only weigh in once per week, and I was so excited to weigh in today. I was convinced that I was going to finally be back under 170. I started week 4 at 170.2 pounds, so I would have only had to lose .3 pounds to be satisfied. Not even half a pound! It seemed like a no-brainer. I hit the sub-170 numbers back in the fall before I started what I lovingly called “my fat kick” and ate whatever I wanted. I was running consistently and really didn’t even bother with watching what I ate. Ah, how glorious that sounds.

I stepped on the scale AAANNNND! I gained 1.4 pounds. Bummer.

I knew this would come eventually. I had seen great steady losses each week since the beginning, so the proverbial shoe had to drop at some point. I just wish it didn’t come on the week I was so excited to finally bust through 170. I remember back when I was sort of horrified at being 150 pounds. This was during high school when I first became aware of my weight and what that meant in the social structure that is teenagerhood. As I got older I did fluctuate up and down here and there, but any time I approached the 150 pound mark I was just disappointed in myself. 170 is my new 150. I felt like once I got under 170 I would be okay, I would be able to get back my goal weight. I had enough self-discipline to do it.

I think we (the greater “we”) likes to attribute our weight to *reasons* more complex than our own behavior. I remember any time I made a comment about my postpartum weight people would say “well, you have a good reason”. Yeah, I did. For a while. But my son is going to be 2 in May and I still carry around 30 extra pounds. That’s what some (very lucky) women gain during their entire pregnancy. It felt like a tool to avoid a topic they may not have been comfortable commenting on, and I get that. But I didn’t feel like my pregnancy over a year ago really a good excuse for still being that much over my normal weight. It was the fact that I sat on my butt in a chair at a desk all day and didn’t want to put the energy into working out. Okay, continue to hear me out.

There are absolutely biological/physical/mental/emotional/etc *reasons* a person gains or loses weight. I have a vivid memory of my first ever boyfriend breaking up with me over the phone. I heated up spaghetti-O’s, sobbed, and ate the entire bowl with total detachment to the fact I was shoving those perfect little O’s into my mouth. There are also lots of genetic, biological, physical, etc., that impact a person’s ability to lose weight. My body changed quite a bit after pregnancy and the physical changes, how I hold fat, and my changed routine have been a huge factor in my ability to get back to my healthy target weight. I even have some of those unchangeable, not-my-damn-fault issues with my biology and chemistry that make things difficult. For example, I have extremely low iron and have had it my whole life. I have known this simple fact since I was in high school and attempted to donate blood to get out of class. The nurse tested my iron levels, laughed, and sent me to the school nurse immediately. 

Somewhere in my overtired overworked mom brain I still know I have very low iron. I know that me wanting to lay on the couch and eat chips and watch Planet Earth because I’m so fatigued may be more than just being tired. It was up to me to see my doctor about that and I didn’t for a long time, mostly because I didn’t feel like dealing with insurance and getting a new PCP and making the appointment and blah blah blah. When I finally got around to it, my PCP ordered blood tests because my chart shows I have had low iron in the past. The results came back and he was like 'HA YEAH over the counter iron pills ain’t fixing you'. I did a few months of weekly IV iron infusions to get my levels back up to a normal range and now take my iron pill every night without fail. Being in the 170’s for so long was, to me, a reflection on my behavior more so than my ability to lose weight or not. It wasn’t my blood’s fault I waited for so long to see my doctor. Also... french fries. 

Mainling coffee. Jk. It's iron.

So what does that have to do with anything? Well, I do have some good *reasons* to still be carrying this extra weight. I had a big baby and gained 70+ pounds despite having pretty normal pregnancy activity/eating habits. I am a full time graduate student, full time mom, I work full time, I have a commute, I have to sleep at some point. My body is different. I have a house to clean. I have a partner that I want to spend time with. I’m an introvert that wants to have some time alone. I’m planning a wedding. You get it. I have rattled off this list of very good *reasons* a million times, but to me, it’s moot. Truly. Lots of people do lots of things every day.

It’s the whole reason I started this training plan. Yeah, I have one billion things on my plate but that’s not a reason to be unhealthy. So why the heck was I so bummed about less than two pounds? Mostly because I used stupid reasons to make stupid decisions. I ate 9 delicious chicken wings on Friday at work for free-wings-for-the-Superbowl day instead of 3 or 4 and something healthier. I had a few delicious beers when I got home instead of just one. I didn’t even want to know how over my calories I was, so I stopped logging them after the 5th chicken wing. I decided to get a greasy Five Guys burger after 90 minutes of hot yoga and an hour long walk with Cooper instead of using all of those spare calories wisely. Honestly though, I don’t regret that. I don’t regret eating 9 wings, either, but I do wish I had used the opportunity to have some yummy stuff in moderation and then get some other yummy, healthier stuff to go along with it.

I also wish I had not let my previous weeks of success convince me I could get away with bad choices for a few days and not see any impacts. Do I care about a freakin’ pound in the long run? Hell no. But I had a goal in mind, I was so, so ready to say goodbye to 170 and never come back, and I botched it with Five Guys and beer. At least it tasted good.

Week 5: The Hot Mess Continues

Is there any week that’s NOT a hot mess when you have a toddler? Honestly. Hot mess brigade, over here. 

Why the hot mess, you ask? Well, we started this week with a 3 mile run on Sunday and I was so tired that I would have rather laid down and melted into the floor than put on my running shoes. I wrote about that last week, but technically Sunday’s are the beginning of my “new” week. My exhaustion didn’t improve once the work week started and several people told me I looked “… kinda tired…” on Monday. They were right, and part of that is probably because Cooper and I got our butts up before 6am and went for an hour long walk Monday morning. I was hoping to get over my sluggishness on Tuesday, but I got a call from Adam that he was picking Noah up from daycare because – DUN DUN DUUUNNNNNN – explosive diarrhea was making a comeback in our family. 

I just about dropped to my knees to pray to Jesus, Mary, and All The Saints that we wouldn’t endure another week of a near-death-stomach-bug again. Someone out there in the Universe heard me and Noah was pretty much back to normal after sticking with the BRAT diet and taking a long nap. We kept him home on Wednesday just in case, so I wasn’t able to get my usual yoga class in. I did use the opportunity to make up the missed running day and tried out my new elliptical!

The elliptical is in our 3-season room right now, which is a udder and complete disaster (HOT MESS). It had carpeting previously and the residents before us did not take care of it, so it was ripped out when we moved in. It’s now down to the original stone floor with a bunch of gnarly leftover adhesive (thankfully no longer sticky, though). Our plan has been to put down temporary padded flooring, move Noah’s bigger toys out there when the weather is nicer, and spruce it up a bit. Right now it’s just basically a dumping area for our fire wood and kindling… and now my elliptical. Cooper stood there looking at me like “hey… lady.. you know we can just go run outside, right?” Of course we would both prefer that, but options are limited when you’re home alone with a sleeping baby. I quickly remembered how much I despise working out on gym equipment, mostly because I can see how much time has passed – or worse, how much time HASN’T passed. Seriously? I’ve only been doing this for 4 minutes?

My longest Strava title yet

I thought going out to Mines Falls, our favorite local trail running spot, would be a good compromise for Thursday. The forecast originally said it would be in the mid-40s (perfect), but it changed and we got a dusting of snow instead. I figured the January thaw would have taken care of a lot of the ice. Heh. I was very wrong. We started on the less-traveled half of the loop and did our best to avoid dislocating our knees and bruising our egos. The trail was mostly ice with a thin sheet of snow evilly disguising it. Perfect. We also encountered two off-leash dogs, which is not always great for Cooper. He’s a very lovable laid back dog, but he’s very protective and has fear aggression issues with other dogs. This is hugely exaggerated when he’s on a leash (he plays with dogs well at daycare, but not so much on a leash). One of the off-leash dogs was a great listener but it was still tough to navigate past them while trying to not break a hip… the other off-leasher, not so much. 

This is just a general PSA, but having your dog off-leash should hold the same theory as driving in bad weather – it’s the other dogs that may be a problem. My dog is the problem, for sure, but that’s why I have him on a gentle leader and try to control the interactions he has. That is not so easy when an off-leash dog approaches us multiple times and doesn’t listen to their owner. 

I was so heated from that, trying to salvage what could hardly be considered a run, slipping horribly on ice every 10 feet, that I, for the first time, truly regretted going to the woods instead of the road. Not ten minutes later we came upon a mama and baby (more like teenage) white-tailed deer on the trail, and it was so cool that it made the whole shitty experience worth it. Cooper was very eager to show me his hunting skills and catch some venison for the family, and he didn’t really understand why letting him loose across Nashua HS South athletic fields wasn’t a great idea. 

Find the silver linings right?

Weight check in:170.2 as of 1/28.

Song of the week: Call Me in the Afternoon by Half Moon Run - THE DRUMS

Running song of the week: Heads Will Roll by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's