I'm supposed to be finishing my resume, but I've been staring at it for a couple hours now and have added almost nothing. I'm where I have to describe my employment history and duties. Very over it. I've finished off all the chips and salsa and am contemplating making something caffeinated. Just not sure if I should be drinking any coffee since it'll probably affect my ability to sleep tonight.
After being awakened just past midnight by a restricted number (I don't answer those, it may be some one I don't want to talk to), I woke up tired this morning. I had a 9 mile run planned, but none of the routes sounded very inviting to me. So I had two cups of coffee and a light breakfast and then attempted to get myself charged up to go. I have to be very sneaky about getting ready to run because I don't want to let Dylan know we're going until it's time to go. Otherwise he wines and yips at me to get moving, all while leaping about excitedly.
I went to get dressed but it was so cold in the house that I could hardly get myself moving. I considered taking a hot bath in order to warm myself up enough to get changed and out the door. I scolded myself for being so lame and shivered into my running clothes. Dylan must have read my mind because he started whining outside my door. When I stepped out, he literally looked me up and down and then started his usual barking and leaping about. I didn't even have my running shoes on, that's how clever this dog is.
I decided on the Forest Road from hell (except that it goes straight up instead of down) because I figured I'd be too distracted by the steepness and altitude to even notice I was running for 9 miles. Looking back, I'm not sure that made any sense. I knew running uphill could only benefit my inner mountain goat (my new muse and role model) so while it may take me forever (and I mean absolutely forever) to finish the run, at least I'd have an awesome workout. Starting at two miles in I already had to walk. Showing his concern, Dylan came back to me and walked behind me, stepping on my heels and nearly causing me to trip. I yelled at him to go on ahead, and with a glance back he trotted up the hill like it was a stroll in the park. Then he'd turn around and wait for me to catch up. He couldn't have rubbed it in anymore. When I tried to give him water from my water bottle, he jerked away from me, obviously insulted. The look on his face was priceless. "Girl please, I am not carrying you down this hill so you better save that water for yourself". So we continued on. He'd run up ahead and then back again, trying to coax me to go faster. My legs and lungs burned and snot was pouring out of my nose from the bitter wind that was pushing me around the road. Worse yet, the dirt was soft and gave way under my feet, causing me to lose several inches with each precious step up.
Finally we reached the top and it was time to turn around and head back. On the way down was the only time I could keep up with Dylan, and it looked like he was lagging behind only to make sure I was ok. Now he's passed out behind me on the floor. He's sure going to have a rude awakening when his mom gets back from vacation and makes him run 20 miles. I'm afraid I'm hurting his endurance and slowing down his metabolism. He's getting used to running slow with me.
Maybe a cup of hot chocolate will get my resume written....
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