Dog days...and nights

Oliver Scootch McFadyen

 

Sweetest face ever, right?

Ever since I brought him home from the Humane Society, Oliver has been a late-night eater.

If I hand feed him, he will eat in the evening before bed. Sometimes.

Since he's a midnight snacker, I keep a nightlight on cuz he is not the most coordinated dog...guess he takes after his momma.

What I've noticed of late is that I'm just not sleeping well. I wake up often, and have a difficult time getting to sleep.

I'm thinking it could be the light.

So I'm making an executive decision and will be retiring the nightlight for awhile to see if this helps me.

Oliver will just have to dine by moonlight.

Hope he doesn't trip over his paws getting to his crunchies.

In my head today...

My dog's breath smells like fish food sometimes, which makes me remember feeding my carnival-won goldfish as a child. Good memory, not so good smell.

Ben Kingsley is a sexy old actor, especially if he's bald. It's true - watch Elegy and tell me he doesn't get you hot. If you're a straight guy, Penelope Cruz is in the movie so you'll have something to watch. It also has one of the loveliest soundtracks.

There's a lot to be said for the body's ability to heal itself. The same goes for a hot bath. And cheese toasties.

I heard this in a film - when someone is getting on your nerves or you just can't stand them, pretend they are drunk. It then becomes a pity thing, and they become tolerable. So far, it works.

I hate it when my favorite soft, snuggly socks get holes in the toes. Sewing them doesn't help, because you can feel the repair and the soft, snuggly feeling isn't there.

Early bird

I was planning on getting up at 4:30 to do Insanity before running.

Woke up at 3:45, feeling wide awake and ready to go. So I did.

I took advantage of the time and started some laundry, had a banana and cleaned one of my bathrooms.

Then did Insanity. (If you're not familiar with Insanity, it's titled appropriately. I love the plyometric workout, and it's great for crosstraining. Also, the trainer is really engaging and makes you feel like he's talking right to you.)

Then ran 2.5 miles.

I love mornings like this.

Oliver does not. He's a creature of habit, and likes his routines.

Too bad. Human trumps dog.

I've officially kicked this day's ass, and it's only 6:30.

Sniff, sneeze, snort

I am miserable.

While I'm lovin' this less-than-Hades weather, the mold count is uber high, which brings on my allergies.

I am making enough snot to probably fill my tub, and then some.

My face is puffy, my eyes itch, burn and tear, and my nose is stuffed and drippy.

Oh, and the sneezing. Beyond spectacular. I've counted 31 so far today, and I'm pretty sure more are on the way. A few happened while driving down 170, which makes for a dodgy game of highway chicken.

I'm a hot mess, with emphasis on mess.

It's the worst in the morning, which makes swimming/biking/running oh so pleasurable.

Bring back the hot temps. I'll gladly trade some heat for a snot-free head.

On a lighter note, here's a funny story....

Whenever I have to do something in the bathroom, whether it's brush my teeth, use the twallet or take a shower, my dog follows me in there. He may bring a toy for me to throw, or he may sit down, in which case I know he wants to chat about his day, so we proceed accordingly.

Tonight, I was in the bathroom looking for allergy medicine (for the 26th time, alas, none has magically appeared as of yet....ahem) and he wanders in and gives me this look.

I know this look well, because it is accompanied with a trembling lower lip/jaw. It's the sweetest, most pitiful thing to behold, I swear.

It's his "Mama, my tummy is upset and I think I might hork" look.

So I reach down to pet him, and he starts in with the "whoooaamp" sound which eminates from deep within his tummy, and courses through the entire length of his body.

It always reminds me of some sci-fi movie in which a woodland creature starts to turn into an alien being...it must feel like complete hell.

So he proceeds to make the "whoooaamp" sound about 10 times, and then, gush. Yellow puddle of liquid on the bathroom floor, with two perfectly formed blades of grass.

Cracked me up. It was almost like modern art - Jackson Pollock couldn't have done any better.

Usually it's one hork, then he grabs some water and begs for a treat.

Not this time. I was mopping up the small puddle of goo when "whoooaamp" started up again. Nine more of these and puddle #2 appears, sans grass.

Poor little fella. Not sure what got into him, but he was hurtin.

Of course, after the treat he's right as rain.

In the past, I've heard the "whoooaamp" sound from across the room, in which case I run at light speed to pick his furry ass up and place him over a non-carpeted/upholstered area for quick and easy clean up. He has since learned to high-tail it for tile when he starts getting sick.  He's smart that way.

The love of my life

Before marriage therapy class started last night, I had a conversation with Suzie, a classmate, which made us both very emotional.

It was about the loves of our lives.

Her best friend and love of her life, Martin, passed away in March. She talked about visiting his grave often, telling him about her day - the challenges, the triumphs, and about how much she missed him. She said that her grief was incomparable to any other loss in her life.

I shared with her the details of my loss, when my best friend died in 2005. It was a very difficult time of my life, and I often wish I could go back and do things over again.

Suzie said she hoped to someday find that kind of love again, but she just wasn't ready now. I shared with her how I went for years without thinking I could get that lucky again, but that in 2007 I was fortunate in that I found that love again.

Oliver came into my life through chance. I was not looking for him, but he found me. And that was the beginning of what is for me, one of the greatest love stories ever told. :-)

Coincidentally, my friend Ash posted this on her Facebook page just now, which made me remember last night's conversation. Below is her tribute to HER best friend:

He is not just a dog
He is my friend
He is my family
He is my partner
He is my companion
He is my defender
He is my hero
He is my eyes when I cannot see
He is my ears when I cannot hear
He taught me to be kind
He taught me to be compassionate
He taught me to be human(e)
I am his voice

Not another step

Holy frijoles. Everything (pretty much) below my rib cage hurts. Hurts bad.

Had my first training session with Kelly last night. My friend Craig suggested I call him Sven, which conjures images of a massive blonde & relentless Swedish trainer.

Well, Kelly isn't blonde, but the relentless moniker is deserved. He is supportive and encouraging, for sure, but also pushes non-stop. Yeah, he's kinda like a pain pusher. But isn't that what a trainer is supposed to do? I don't need to be coddled or cuddled. I need to be punished. In a gym-kinda-way. Which is what Kelly did, for over an hour.

The best part? The stretch at the end. Heaven.

Oh, and the pic isn't Kelly, it's the ShakeWeight Guy, whose face cracks me up. Is he working out or just happy to see me?

So, about 25 minutes into the session he remarked that this is the tipping point, where most of his first-day clients bow out. He's only had a few make it to the end. Suckers, that's what I have to say. Now, whether that was trainer-speak or actual fact, it mattered not because I paid and I was gonna play the entire 60 minutes.

See, when I work out in a group or with someone else, I suck it up. I'd rather finish in a pool of mushy goo, weeping from the pain than beg off and wimp out because, well, that's darn embarrassing.

But, to be honest, about 30 minutes into it, I felt like tossing Toll House Cookies, but 10 seconds of rest brought me back from potential liquid to solid ground. The cool part? Kelly called me on my pre-vomitous face and told me to hang back for a few seconds to collect my innards. He was totally cool with it, so I was too.

He also told me that spitting, hissing, yelling, moaning and swearing were completely acceptable from his trainees. He only got swearing from me last night - not aimed at him, just felt good to release verbally.

Who knew that a lower body and ab weight workout could be so intense? So painful? So punishing? So RIGHT?

Ha.

We met for 20 minutes after the session to go over my meal plan, which so far has been delightful in the fruity sense. Adding blueberries to my BFL food regimen has brought color, taste and variety into what was a pretty bland menu. AND I totally scored last night at Schnucks because Shredded Wheat was on sale 4/$10. I got 8. Go big or go home when it comes to fiber, folks.

So today I can barely walk. Seriously, I must look like Mr. Magoo ambling down the hallway. Probably a hilarious sight to see. My funny walk means I need to either hit a spin class later or run to keep from getting completely stiff.

So far, loving this training experience. I may have to keep it up beyond the 3 months...seems worth it to me.