Doryman's Dark

Last Friday on my five-miler, I came across a big fat yellow lab parked in the middle of the road. An older couple in a bright canary yellow mini Cooper also saw the roadblock and circled around to ask me if it was my dog. Ah, no.

But due to its weight, yellow labness, and my expert Dog Whispering techniques, I stopped to help the dog. (This may surprise you, but I also typically hate other people's dogs.) After a couple minutes of ringing bells, we found a nice geezer lady who knew where the dog lived--supposedly. Of course, Dory (the dog) loved this woman because she put dog treats on her curb! Portland kills me sometimes. Also, geezer ladies know everything about everything in their neighborhoods.

By this time another runner and her dog had joined the fray, so me, old lady from the mini cooper, new runner girl (with a Texans hat on! Are you kidding me? A Texans hat? What the F??!!), runner-girl dog and fat ass Dory did a nice slow jog up a couple streets.

As the old lady starts jogging in her obviously non-running shoes, I tell her "You don't have to run! We'll wait for you at the top of the hill."

She says, "I used to be a runner. But now I have a bad knee. Got it from running too much when I was your age."

I tried to downplay my running and not make her long for marathon training and said, "Oh, I just run to keep in shape because I've had two babies."

And she said, "Oh, I can tell you're a good runner. You have a great gait."

And then, just like George Constanza after telling a good joke, I wanted to leave the scene immediately so nothing could ruin that nice moment of an old runner complimenting my gait.

Long story short, another geezer lady told us where Dory lived and we got her home safe and sound. To the son of her deceased owner, who has to put her up for adoption because he's a single guy and works all the time. Totally depressing.

Last note: I did ten miles on Saturday. I did not fuel properly the night before (Did you know pizza and cheesy bread is not a good choice? Me neither!) and did have a hard time finishing it up. I felt like I was hallucinating. I came inside, asked Michael for a Gatorade and he totally made fun of me for sounding pathetic. If I had had any strength I would have kicked his ass off the deck. Instead I sat on the stairs and cried. It was tough, but it's in the books.

Total mileage last week:
Monday: 4.5
Tuesday: 6.5
Wednesday: off
Thursday: off (bad Sarah! Went to the zoo instead)
Friday: 5.0
Saturday: 10

Total mileage this week is looking to be around 33. God help me.