Road to Joy

I ran a 1 mile warm-up, 6X400 hills (easy on the downhill), and a 1 mile cool-down. 

All of that is actually pretty approximate.  I couldn't see where I'd put down my Garmin watch when I got ready to run from my sister's house today what with all the diapers and blankets and kids and such that I'd just deposited all over her entryway.  I tend to just spill and spread all over her house when I come by.  I figured I didn't really need the watch anyway since I knew the hill I wanted to run and I knew where a mile was from her house. 

What? you say.  You don't need a watch just because you know the distance?  Aren't you running hills?  Don't you want to know your pace? 

Nope.  I didn't.  I definitely didn't because I had no problem seeing my watch on the floor in front of the diaper bag the second I stepped in the house after finishing the work-out.  I've got some serious serious work-out issues to work-out.  I'm still very afraid to hold myself to a time.  I'm still mighty frightened by anything other than a comfortable run day.  That's one of the reasons I'm here.

So everything was going hunky-dory with me watchless, pressureless and content on my warm-up.  Then I got to my quarter mile hill that I knew was a quarter mile.  The only hill I knew for miles around that was exactly a quarter mile.  And suddenly running across two streets and a grassy yard was a dumb little brown barking dog.  Yeah, ok, I'll be upfront.  Saying he weighed ten pounds is just me trying to make myself look good, but he was a persistent fella and came right up to my ankles and layed out on his forepaws all mennacing and sneering like, barking madly all the while.  I figured I'd just keep running but it only got him more excited and closer to my ankles.  Besides, you know what they say, its not the size of the dog that matters - its the size of his teeth.  Think parana - they're small but those doggone teeth - yikes.  I really, really, really wanted to yell in the window of the dog's owner, "Could you please remove your public nuisance from my ankles," but I didn't know which window of which house to direct my anger.  I did do that once - I yelled at somebody's house who let their dog harrass runners that came down their country road daily.  I yelled with all sorts of gusto, "Could you PLEASE come get your dog."  Nobody came that day, but the dog was behind the fence next time.  And I felt so much better having gotten my feelings off of my chest.  Anyhow - my next recourse of action was to run into my sister's house real quick and find out who's dumb dog was keeping me from my 400 hill.  All I got from her was a, "Yes!  Now you know!  That dog is always chasing me when I go running."  "Who's dog is it?"  I ask trying to get to the point, not too worried about her vindication.  "I don't know, it's somebody in the other ward.  But yep, he's always out there."  So all I could do was curse the dog and his unknown owners and go try to guess how far a 400 was on another hill.  I think I guessed short, but looking for the hill lengthened out my warm-up and cool-down so I still figure I was somewhere around 5 miles.

So two lessons:

1) Tie up your dumb dog or get a fence.

2) Get some guts and don't "lose" your Garmin watch.