This is becoming the roaming laptop, since Steve is so busy with school. Rather than being accepting of this, I have come to feel like maybe we just need another laptop so I can futz around with the internet, rather than having to wait for Steve to take study breaks or whatever so I can check out my favorite blogs and see the news and what-have-you. Or maybe I should just get an iPhone or something...yeah, 'cause I really need one (um, no, not really).
This week has been going well (knock on wood). I did miss working out on Thursday because it got so late that I was too tired to work out. I ended up doing my missed Aerobic workout last night (on a Friday! Shakin' it up!), and I will do my weights workout tonite. That also means that I will go running for fun on a Sunday (SAY WHAT?!). I haven't been running in over a week, maybe closer to two weeks now. I have had my aerobic/cardio workouts, but it has been more in-home Dance Dance Revolution style. While that is fun, it's not the same as running, and I am only doing DDR because I can't figure out how to be ok with leaving my sleeping child alone in the house so I can go to the apartment complex's gym to run. Just can't seem to frame that in my mind as an ok thing...so I'm making do with what I have.
There is supposed to be a trail near where we live, and it is rumored (by my boss Darcy at work, who would know) that this trail is the trail for the Pumpkin Run. So I am going to run it on Sunday and see what happens. I will take water, my little Pearl, some rescue flares, a machete, and a first aid kit. I wish I could take those things, though, because I am a bit of a mess on a trail run. Let me "splain":
When Steve and I first started hanging out (read: I was obsessed and horribly crushing on Steve and sort of latched onto whatever group outing he was a part of), he and another friend decided to run a trail. I had been running before (like two or three times on a track), and I was assured that I would do great for the four miles of fun they were going to do, and I'd have a blast, and it's awesome, and all that. So I felt fairly sure that I would be able to hold my own. I wasn't going to be a speedy runner, and Steve and the other runner (a friend of both of ours) said it would be fine, don't worry, just come, whatever.
We get there for the run and start running. I have only ever run on a track or on the pavement. Here there be roots and dirt and rocks and puddles and stuff. It is exhilirating, but only because I'm trying to not fall on my face and I'm trying to look like I know what I'm doing and not look like a panting rhino because, if you recall, I am running with the guy I have a huge crush on. So all goes well for maybe a quarter of a mile, until a rock jumps out in front of my right foot and I go sprawling, slip-n-slide style across the ground. My left ankle is in agony, and I can tell something bad happened because that foot is numb, but I can feel warmth spreading under the skin of that foot's ankle. Something tore and I am in big trouble, and not only because I hurt myself and my right knee is bleeding and I'm dirty and smudged, but oh my gosh I fell down like a sack of potatoes in front of STEVE!
This is where I get teasing rights for the rest of Steve's life. Mr. I-Know-Everything-About-Running says to me, barely panting, that this is probably just a little thing, and I should get back up and continue running, that the movement will force out the fluids in my ankle (which is starting to swell) and I'll be as good as new by the end of the run (a big fat frackin' lie). Uncertain that he is right, and also wanting to look like I have confidence in him, I agreed to try it, once my foot stopped being numb. Gingerly I got back up and starting running the trail. This was, as you can guess by now, A BAD IDEA.
My ankle tried to comply...maybe it thought the reason we were still running was because I was being chased by a dude with a hockey mask and a chainsaw. But then my ankle decided enough was enough. And my pride was too invested to stop and say that I needed some help, and I was lost in the woods on this godforsaken hilly, crap trail. I think this sucker was more like six miles. Six miles of running on what turned out to be a severely sprained ankle. Well, limping for six miles...running was out by then. I got back to the parking lot and fortunately took my shoe off before I sat in the car to drive. When I got home, my sister had to help me climb the stairs, since my ankle was black and blue and the size of a grapefruit. I was pretty dang sure I was done with trail running (and quite possibly Steve) forever.
So wish me luck on Sunday, pray for steady ankles, sure feet, well-tended trails, and no rocks. Please? Thank you.