I started writing about daily life. Which is the worst possible thing you can do on a blog, according to the experts. It's the "No one cares you ate tuna fish for lunch," rule. Or in my case the, "No one cares you ran yet another mile. Stop the self-congratulating and go shower, already," rule. 

Here are my reasons for backing out:

• We already have snow accumulation on the ground. As I type this, more snow and freezing rain is falling. Uwharrie is a treacherous run during dry conditions. Running downhill on loose gravel covered in ice scares me. 
• I'm not ready. I have done minimal trail running and no hill work. 
• I need an attitude adjustment. Running the mountain requires a big dose of "bring it!" attitude which is missing from my mental make-up. 
• I want a friend. It's more fun to suffer and struggle through one of these things when you have a partner to push you. 

I'm disappointed in myself. Sitting out the race because of the weather is probably the smart call, but I know that I lucked out with that excuse. I would have run it if the weather had been clear, but I know I'm not ready and I'm just as happy to have an excuse to bail. 

What I'm looking at for Saturday instead is a 20-mile run on the treadmill. I'm hoping I can get to Greensboro to run with the group but we'll see what Mother Nature holds in store for us.

Meanwhile, it's absolutely stunning outside. A fresh inch of snow on the trees and rooftops and big, fat, flakes continue to fall. 

I haven't given up. Next year, Uwharrie, be warned.

I'm comin' for ya. 

WORK

• 2 newsletter articles
• Developmental edit on book due to editor
• Write, rewrite, rip apart and write again children's book for client
• Conduct interviews, interviews, interviews for other book for client
• Transcribe interviews, interviews, interviews
• Write book from interviews, interviews, interviews
• Compose query letter and sample columns for magazine I want to work for as a columnist

This, I believe, makes me intellectually superior to those around me.

It also makes me stuck in the house with no damn food to eat. 

Who can resist a face-eating dog?

Or the power of the exceptionally cute puppy. Whatever. Neighbors, running buddies, and all around good people Josh and Iris saw the Petco pictures on the prior blog entry and were captivated by "Brains... I need more brains... Haley," as seen here. We exchanged a few e-mails on where said couple might go to meet Haley, if, strictly hypothetically, they decided they were in the market for a third dog. 

They went, they saw, they fell in love. Haley (soon to be renamed) came home with them that day. 

I all but did cartwheels around the house. I know what wonderful people Josh and Iris are and I am happy-to-the-point-of-tears for this dog that can't even imagine what a wonderful life she's going to lead. 

I've been promised pictures along with a name reveal, so stay tuned for updates. 

And beware. This is the second dog I've found a home for among friends. I'm coming for the rest of you. (That means you, Kim.)

Cheers,

Dena

Here are a few photos from our day:

Hilton is the blob spread out on his back, begging for a belly rub.

WARNING: Bad language involved. Don't click through if you're easily offended. 

Not blogging about clients is probably for my own protection as well. A new or potential client doesn't need to stumble across my blog and read about how I'm making stuff up as I go, I went to noon yoga instead of working on their deadline, or that one of my cats barfed on their project draft. (Not that any of that happens around here. Uh-uh. Nope. NEVER.)

"How many more?" they asked us.

"Four," we replied.

"How're you feeling?" they asked.

I shook my head and gulped water. "This is a really stupid sport," I answered. 

Forgive me. I lose my manners after a certain amount of tiredness sets in. Just ask the poor guy at the Richmond marathon two years ago. I was barely moving at a trot and just gave up and started walking around mile 18. I was tired, upset at missing my time goal and just in an overall foul mood, which must have showed on my face.

"Tough day?" he asked sympathetically. 

I looked at him and scowled. "I hate this %@$*-ing sport," I said. 

He quickly moved on.

I feel bad about it, now. But there really does come a point where I am just not fit to be around other human beings.

Today wasn't that bad although I was tired. VERY tired. The tired kicked in around mile 15 and didn't go away. But I wasn't upset about it. We'd held a fast, solid pace up to that point--much faster than the training called for--so I was willing to cut myself some slack.

And though it's difficult to explain, I really do love this sport. I especially love it when the heavy tiredness sets in. Even though my body is half-dead from exhaustion, I feel more alive than at any other point during my week.

Why? It's something to do with having to leave all the excuses behind and just buckle down and do the work. But there's a comfort in knowing I can do it. That I can push past that point where all I want to do is stop. 

I'm not sure, however, this skill serves me elsewhere in life. My running partner asked if my husband ran. He's just started, but I explained that Blair prefers workouts with a purpose. If you need a field cleared or a shed built, he's your man. I think he struggles with running because he's just... running.

I'm the opposite. I'll run all day long for no reason but ask me to pick up sticks from the yard and I'm like, "Huh! But it's hard. And I'm tired. And whine-whine-whine."

So much for that mental toughness.

Hope your day has started much more CALMLY than mine.

Cheers,

Dena