Running Wild

Have you ever gone out for a night of drinking only to wake up in the morning with your liver sitting on your couch smoking a cigarette, pissed as hell at what you put him through?  That same morning I'm sure you vowed never to touch another drop of alcohol, only to whack down a pair of bloody marys for brunch.  In my former life I used to enjoy punishing my body in such ways, however I found a new form of torture that is far more upsetting to my body; marathoning.  Last year after the Twin Cities Marathon, I had decided it was time to hang up the sneakers for a while.  What more did I have to prove?  I completed three marathons at the blazing speed of 5 hours.  What need did I have to do a fourth?  But like those bloody marys, I just couldn't say no to one more...

A few weeks ago I signed up to do the Twin Cities Marathon again.  I started training and this past weekend I had to run 6 miles after church and Mom had the bright idea that I bring Anya with me.  Ever since, Anya is convinced that she is going to be running the marathon with me.  No, not in the stroller, she wants to jog with her old man.  In an effort to break her spirit, I told her she could run with me when we went to the gym.  I dropped off Reegan and Caitlin in the child care center and took Anya with me to the indoor track upstairs.  I figured I'd run a couple hundred meters with her and she'd understand how tiring and boring running can be.  My plan backfired.  She ended up running a mile and a half and loved every minute of it.  It's interesting running with someone who doesn't have an inner monologue:

"Dad, why is that lady running so slow?"
"Dad, did you see how sweaty that guy is?"
"Dad, we just ran past that guy two minutes ago!"

I must say it made my run much more interesting.  I wish I could get away with such open commentary about the people at the gym without getting my ass kicked.

Caitlin's collar bone seems to be healing just fine.  It doesn't seem to bother her in the least.  Now she's back to whining about the regular things in life; Anya stealing her toys, Reegan running her over, and never having enough headbands to wear.

Reegan is talking a lot more these days.  One of her favorite lines is "I'm Okay!"  You know when you're riding your bike and a car pulls out in front of you and you hit him going 10 miles an hour.  Your crotch lands squarely on the handle bars, but you can't lie on the ground like a pussy.  You have to hop up, wave like your fine, and ride a block away before you tend to your bruised and swollen testicles.  Somehow Reegan has learned from Papa's reaction to painful injuries.  She was running full speed to greet Nana earlier this week.  She outran her feet and face planted herself in the grass.  Her feet were literally above her head as her face slid through the grass and dirt.  Before even lifting her head, she screams "I'm Okay!" and stands up like nothing happened.  Papa would have been proud.

Tip of the Day:  While it may seem like a good idea to let your children play with 10 lbs of bread flower in the yard, getting that shit out of their hair requires a good hour of heavy scrubbing.