Death From Above

We got Domo a cat tree.  We're not sure if it was a good idea, yet.

I, for one, welcome our new feline overlord.

16th Birthday

"We're buying these party hats for people...not a cat," I said overly loudly to my wife as we walked through the dollar store, giggling helplessly.  "No one would buy party hats for a cat.  Who would do such a thing?"

Yesterday was Higgy the cat's 16th birthday, and since he's been diagnosed with lymphatic cancer, it's in all likelihood his last birthday, so we decided to make a really big deal of it to celebrate the life of our weird, furry, treasured friend.

I can't say that Higgy did not hate his race-car themed party hat, but he did enjoy tuna, cake, and ice cream.  Not all at once...of course.  That's just gross.

Higgy's favorite part of the party was probably that the kittens were not invited.

A New Problem for my Feet

That's right.  Kittens.  We have an infestation of kittens in one of our spare bedrooms.  The little orange one is named "Strax" and the black one is "Domovoi" (aka "Domo"). 

They're completely insane, adorable, cuddly and friendly, but they, particularly Domo, have decided that my feet -- the same feet that bring them their food and toys -- are an enemy to be relentlessly attacked at every occasion.

I'd be annoyed at them, but they're just so cute.  

They're probably going to be restricted to the spare bedroom for another week or two while Strax fights off a problem with his eye.  Plus, we want to very gradually introduce them to Higgy and Elizabeth, who are not going to be happy about this.  And we have hide all the sneakers.

A Furry Friend Lost

A little over 15 years ago, a tiny, mostly black kitten tried to claw his way up the leg of my jeans.  I was less than thrilled with this.  My girlfriend, Chris (who is now my wife),  had adopted this little cat, Pooka, and his brother, Higgy, the prototypical brown tabby, over the summer before our senior year of college.  I was less than thrilled with this.  Pooka passed away very suddenly yesterday, and now that one of my furry buddies is gone, I'm a complete wreck.

He was a great friend to us, and I'll always remember him.  He was always happy and outgoing.  After Chris adopted him, he adopted me.  I didn't particularly like cats, but Pooka decided that I was his friend, and he was going to pal around with me.  It didn't take long for me to grow very fond of the big, black, happy cat.

In his mind, everything in the house belonged to him and everyone in the world wanted to be his friend.  If you talked to him or petted him, he would be purring in seconds.  If you started petting him, there was a great chance that you had made a friend for life and an excellent chance that he was going to roll over to expose his tummy for rubbing.  Indeed, it was very common, as I walked around our house, to randomly come across Pooka lying on the floor with his tummy up in the air, purring.  He was a big, friendly, noisy presence in our house.  It feels empty here without him, and we will miss him greatly.  He was a great friend, and we could not have asked for a more awesome cat.

 This sad day could have come 10 years from now (15 corresponds to roughly 80 in cats), and I never would have been ready.  That said, I'm thankful for every day that I had with my great, soft, purry friend, Pooka the Cat. 

Pooka was not as good at hiding as he thought he was.

Post-race naps will not be as cool.

Foam rolling will never be the same.  Pooka always stretched with me before a run.  

Then, he would run the four feet to the kitchen in world-record speed.  

He usually made funny cat noises when he ran.

He was soft, cuddly, and good-natured, but he was also a fighter.  He had a lot of medical issues over the years and he always came through it with his good Pooka cheer intact.  Thanks to our friends at Valley Green Vet Hospital, he got to be an active, happy kitty for over 15 years and he was his cheerful self right up until about noon yesterday.  I'll never forget the time he came back home after having bladder-stone surgery when he was around 8 years old.  Drugged-up, he stumbled out of his cat carrier, took two steps and fell over.  I was concerned, but when I went over to check on him, he was already purring.  

After surgery, his tummy looked like it had a happy face on it.

He had to wear a cone for a few months in the winter of 2011.  After he got comfortable with it, he was hilarious.  It was then that he often started making a "rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" noise as he walked through house. So I'd hear him coming and then I'd hear a "bonk" as the cone caught on a wall or table.  Then, pause.  Then, after he'd confusedly adjust his direction, "rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" and off he went.  

Or lastly, just a few months ago, when a pinched nerve or related issue caused one of his back legs to be paralyzed, it wasn't long before he was climbing out of the big bin that I'd made into his nest.  He never quite walked normally again, but just a few days ago, my wife and were marveling at some of the jumps our big old kitty friend would still attempt, and make.

I could go on, and on, and on with my favorite memories of Pooka.  But mostly I'll just remember how soft he was, how loud he purred, how friendly he was to both his biological brother and their younger adopted sister, and just how happy he was and how happy made us.  You're perfect, Pooka, and I'm glad we got to go through the last 14 years together.  

Inertia

I got out for a 3-mile run this afternoon.  It sucked. (My leg injuries were fine...just lack of conditioning). It was my first run in 11 days.  That's a big part of why it sucked.

I'm caught in a trap right now.  Running is a lot harder for me right now than it was in my glory days of 2009-2011.  Therefore it's less fun, and so it's easier to find an excuse not to go.  

Too much work.  It's icy out there.  I don't feel well.  I didn't sleep well enough.

They're all true.  But I can't make all these excuses all the time.  I must run more.  As I get in better shape, it won't be so unpleasant and I won't dread it so much.  

I can recognize the trap I'm in.  I know exactly what I have to do and what I need my mindset to be.  I'm just having trouble freeing myself.  There's no magic motivation switch I flip back on. 

Could today be that start?  I made excuses all week.  I woke up to a freezing drizzle this morning, went and got breakfast, and settled in for a lazy by myself.  (Chris is in Wisconsin on her own adventure).  I ate my breakfast sandwich and donuts.  I watched two episodes of Game of Thrones. I resigned myself to running tomorrow, and flipped on the Flyers game, and took a nice three-cat-assisted nap during the second period.  

(I swear that cats must radiate some kind of sleepiness drug into the air.)

But THEN I went out and ran. 

I'm going to be sore tomorrow, but between a really tough day of work on Monday and picking Chris up from the airport that night, I know I won't run on Monday.  So I'm going to try 2 miles tomorrow morning and get myself out of the bear trap.

What I Learned from the Cat

With only a few exceptions, every time I've run for the past two years, I've used my foam roller to stretch out beforehand.  And almost every time I've used the foam roller, a big, friendly black cat comes waddling slowly over, flops on the floor, stretches out, and purrs his head off.

It probably makes my pre-run preparation less efficient since I have to break in between reps for tummy rubs, but it's really cute.  

Unfortunately, for the last two weeks I've had to foam roll without any assistance.  Pooka the Cat lost the use of back legs two weeks ago, due to what seemed to be a pinched nerve (at least this is the level of detail at which I can explain what the vet told me).    Since then, he's begun a slow and steady recovery and he can now limp around, though he usually falls every few steps. 

Since he's been injured, he's had to be confined, partly for his own good, and partly for ours, since I didn't think he can make it to the litterbox under his own power.  As soon as I brought him home from the vet, I set up a comfy nest for him in a big plastic bin.  He had, food, water, blankets, and a litterbox.  He hated it, but when I gave into his crying and put him on the spare bed in my office, he dragged himself off of it the second my back was turned.  Though he's getting around much better now, I still don't want to leave him out and wandering when we're not around, since he's not navigating stairs very well and since getting down from furniture is still a challenge for him (he can get up on some things, but doesn't land well when he gets down.  He's feeling well enough now that he can climb out of his bin, so I have to leave him in the bathroom closet when we're not around.

What's impressed me, though, is the cheerful good humor with which Pooka has endured this and all his other medical mishaps (he's had surgery for bladder stones, was diabetic, and has hyperthyroidism).  Despite being completely unable to walk, he still was usual happy, purry self.  I, on the other hand, have let some shin problems turn me into a bitter, lazy grump.

It's ok to be frustrated by injuries.  But, as my expensive, fluffy pal taught me, I don't have to be such a dick about it.

Hiding: You're Doing it Wrong

"If you can't see them, they can't see you."

Cats, what can't they teach us?

Getting Back Momentum

(I saw a cute kitty on the Rail Trail this morning,
but my cel-phone picture didn't save.  So here's Pooka.)

I feel like I'm barely hanging on right now.  I felt the same way before the Philly Marathon, where I'd only get one run in during the week, but then I'd go run 20 miles on Saturday and totally redeem myself (not really...as the marathon results tell!).

Lately I'm in a rut where I just wasn't getting more than 5 miles.  Sure, I got 3 miles in Atlantic City last week, but this past weekend, my Saturday "long run" was right back to 5 miles.

With that in mind, I think I made a little bit of progress this week.  It started off kind of badly, in that I didn't get out on the roads until Wednesday since I was feeling soreness from running HACC Dash way out of my comfort zone and we ran some errands on Tuesday.  I debated between a run Wednesday evening right after work or waiting till later when it might be cooler.  
I didn't want to go out after work, since it was around 80 degrees, but I knew that if I waited till later, I would wrapped up in watching the surprisingly competent Orioles and end up not feeling like going out at 10:00.  It turned out to be a wise decision, since they went into extra innings and wrapped up around 12:30.

So I ran, and it was hot, but I felt ok and made myself run 5 miles instead of the 3 that I'd bargained myself down to.  I added some of the big hills that I'd been avoiding, so even though it was 5 miles again, at least it was a tougher 5 miles.

I also realized that soreness from fencing on Friday night was probably having a negative effect on my Saturday morning runs.  So, I went out for my long run this morning and ran 7 miles on the rail trail with no discomfort other than that 7 miles is outside my comfort zone right now.  

Screw you, fencing!

I'm pretty happy with this, but tying my longest run of the year and having fencing tonight probably doesn't bode well for the Armed Forces Day 5K I'm running on City Island tomorrow.  I have this distinction in my mind of what is a Brooks Adrenaline run vs. an Adidas adiZero Tempo run.  The Brooks run is any run, like today or the Sole of City 10K, where I'm just there...running without an aggressive time goal (and also likely any distance over 7-8 miles regardless of goal).  The Adidas run is HACC Dash or Shamrock 8K...I'm going to PR or die trying.  (Well, that's a little over-dramatic, but one in which I'm really going to run with the goal of being what passes for fast around here.)  

I'll try to run a good race, but I think tomorrow is a day for the Brooks Adrenalines.

Random

So, I've got a couple things to write about, but no ideas for a coherent blog post. So, you get bullet points:

Losin' It

• "The Battle of the Bulge", as described in last Friday's post seems to have gotten off to a decent start. I've lost just over 4 pounds since last Thursday night. Now, I know there's often a big loss the first week of a diet, but I think I did pretty well in eating less during the day (salads for lunch, no salty snacks or desserts during the day) and working out every day this week. I can tell I'm eating less because I'm actually finding myself feeling hungry, rather than just eating because it's time to eat or because I loooooooove eating. Good start, but gotta stick with it...
  

Running/Fitness

• I'm going to go running tomorrow. I have no idea what to expect or what goals to set, I just know I'm going running for the first time in over a month. I'm excited, but also nervous. The shinsplits on the right leg seem better, but I'm hoping I can tell pretty quickly whether the Left Leg Mystery Bump is going to be problem, rather than something that isn't noticeable until I get the mileage back up. If it needs further treatment, I'd like to know sooner rather than later. Check back tomorrow to see how it goes. (I bet the suspense is KILLING you!) Update: Forecast is snow tonight and into tomorrow. So we'll see about this. Perfect timing. I loathe snow.
  
  
• I've run a total of 2.5 miles in 2012. I'm signed up for 8 miles worth of races by the end of April.
  
  
• I've been re-thinking my running goals. That probably can hold for a future post though since the next couple of weeks are probably going to show whether it's ok to start working my way back, and since that's supposed to be what this blog is about, anyway.
  
  
• NEXT WEEK! I'll announce the first "Earn Your Donuts" contest and giveaway. I have an actual prize, it's not just pictures of my cats or autographed running bibs, or autographed cats, I promise. It's an actual company that you've probably heard of. (I wasn't sure what heading to put this under).
  

Off-topic

• After a couple (ok a lot!) more listens, I like the new Van Halen album even more. My musical tastes have changed over the last 12 years or so. I would never claim to have any punk rock credibility at all, but that's mostly what I've been listening too. This week, though, has been a complete Van Halen binge. It's 1984 again, and I love it. (All hail the defending World Champion Baltimore Orioles!) Don't feel bad, Sammy Hagar, I've got your stuff mixed in there, too. I still like you even if the Van Halens don't.
  
  
• Friday night is my favorite part of the week. The end of the work week, the first sip of beer, a relaxing dinner at home or a local restaurant, and Fringe. Fringe, on FOX, is one of my current favorite TV shows, fitting nicely into the weird sci-fi/mystery niche that's still been vacant in my life since the end of LOST (still mad about that ending, though!). Unlike LOST, though, which was -- or at least seemed -- smart, I think Fringe is really just campy fun. "Previously on Fringe...a bunch of things that don't really make sense." During my high school years, I spent many a Friday night with Agents Scully and Mulder, making Fringe seem comfortably familiar.

• You may think it would be cute and funny to teach a cat to sit on your shoulders like a parrot. It's not.

Catching Up from Down South

Sorry everyone, another boring running-type post. Feel free to scroll ahead for adorable cat pictures.

I'm back. Not all the way back. Not that I was ever really "there", anyway. But, whatever. I'm back. I felt like it really took two weeks after the Philly Marathon-related Debacle before I really felt normal again. But after two well-paced runs, a 7-miler last Thursday and 10 on Saturday, I feel like I'm exactly where I need to be at this point to start training for Shamrock.

Of course, this week is a total mess. Willpower is not the problem, it's just a matter of logistics...which means I guess it is kind of a matter of willpower. I'm on a business trip to lovely Dallas, TX. And let me tell you this, all my sports-related antipathy to Dallas is not just hype -- it really does suck...well, at least the parts I've seen, which have been pretty much limited to the airport, highways and access roads.

The rental car facility was so far from the airport that there really should have been a connecting flight. There's a toll road that I was just magically on with no warning and supposedly drivers are somehow charged automatically and since I told the rental car people that I didn't think I'd be on toll roads now I'm probably going to wind up in a Texas jail. To get anywhere, you have to make these big loops since all the roads are divided. And where is the Jerrydome? I thought you were supposed to be able see it from space.

Anyway...back to my point. I brought all my running gear, and they're having the cold weather that I love, but since my hotel is nestled right off a highway access ramp and without sidewalks anywhere around, I settled on 40 minutes in the treadmill.

Don't get me wrong, it's a very nice treadmill, but it was also 75 degrees in hotel gym! That is why I wanted to run outside! Like I said, it really is a matter of willpower. I could have found a park or residential area, but at 9:30 at night in a completely unfamiliar city, I'll take my 40 treadmill minutes and be content with it.

The real problem, though, is this:

Not just In-n-Out Burger, which is awesome and which we don't have in Pennsylvania, but eating in general. To put it kindly, eating is one of my favorite things. Some people run to lose weight. Some people run because they really, truly intrinsically love it. I run so I can eat more stuff and continue to look relatively the same. But, when I'm on a business trip, I'm less restrained than usual.

It doesn't help that my client, which I'm not going to name, really took excellent care of the people attending the meeting that I'm here for. The attendees at the meeting are provided with a per diem allowance for meals, but when the client provides meals to attendees, it counts them against their allowance at a rate that's more costly than most conference-type food. Because of this, the people in charge wanted to make sure attendees got their money's worth. So, I had an egg sandwich and some fruit for breakfast. Not bad. Lunch? Bad. I mean, good. Delicious chicken in mushroom sauce. I was starving, so I had two lunches. I have no idea why I was so much hungrier than usual, but I still had room for some cookies (and conference cookies are always great!) at mid-afternoon break.

Later in the day, my colleague and I were lured by In-n-Out Burger's neon sign and promise of delicious burgers and fries. It was very good, even though I ordered a cheeseburger and got what I believe to be "Animal Style" by mistake.

I did hit the treadmill tonight, and probably will again on Wednesday. I hope to get to use the hotel's one set of weights tomorrow. But, I probably won't be able to keep myself away from the food.

After my workout, I rewarded myself with chocolate-chip oatmeal cookies, which my wife made me to take along. Did I mention I have the best wife ever?

(There were a lot more cookies...but I stress-ate a lot of them after getting to the hotel.)

She helped me out a little, though, replacing the butter with applesauce. Mmm...applesauce.

At any rate, I'm looking forward to getting home to my family and back out on the peaceful roads of Central PA.

And, without further ado, the cuteness:

(Higgy is "venting")

(There's no time like the present to lay under a Christmas tree.)

Christmas Evil

This post has nothing to with running, or marathons, or food, and everything to do with rampant holiday cheer.

Most of the time, I love cats. My wife and I have three cats, Higgy, Pooka, and Elizabeth. I volunteer at the cat adoption center at the local Petsmart, from whence Elizabeth the Kitten came. One small thing that we do each year to help homeless animals is to purchase the annual "Luv-a-Pet" ornaments from PetSmart charities each year.

I'm glad to try to help, but you have to admit that some of these things are pretty creepy:

(Ok, this guy looks a little evil, but no more evil than cats actually are.)

(A cute snow kitty. How whimsical! Not evil at all!)

(Again, not evil at all.)

(A cat playing hockey? This is the Stanley Cup of cute.)

(What could be cuter than a tobogganing cat? Two tobogganing cats!)

(Well, alright. A little creepy I admit, but Siamese are untrustworthy. No pattern. Nothing to worry about.)

(Oh no! Why does this cat want to kill me? They can't get more evil looking than this one, can they?)

(WE HAILS ARE DEMIN LORD! I CAN HAZ UR SOUL?)

(Phew. This one's cute again -- oh no! Those eyes! Those terrible, demented eyes!)

(The 2010 and 2011 models are cute again. I guess you could say there's a lack of originality,
but I'll take a different-colored "Lucky" every year after those creepy 2007-2009 ornaments.)

You can buy Lucky the Cat, Chance the Dog, or an assortment of more real-looking dog ornaments to help PetSmart Charities here. I've had a nice laugh at some of their ornaments but I do believe it's a worthy cause.

How to Beat Up a Kitty

I enjoy checking my blog traffic on the Blogger Dashboard. Don't judge me!

Are people reading this?

Where are they coming from?

People are actually reading this?

I enjoy looking at traffic sources, the websites people came from and the search terms that lead people here. In general, if Google leads you here, I hope you find what you're looking for.

However, today, I noticed that "Earn Your Donuts" was found through a search for "How to beat up a kitty". In fact, if you search (without quotes), it's the number one search result for how to beat up a kitty.

I'm sure I'll lose that title once www.howtobeatupakitty.com launches (at which point we're probably nearing the Singularity -- the inevitable future point at which every possible domain name is taken), but in the meantime I don't think that's a distinction that I want.

After all, if you're reading this blog, you probably have noticed that one of the few things I love more than typing rambling blog posts is soft, adorable cats.

Big, fluffy rug cats.



Skinny, whiny, psychotabbies:



Adorable little blog-commenting kittens who get stuck in walls.


Sure, cats can be destructive, huggable nuisances, but with love and attention they can also become some of our best friends.

So whomever found this blog searching for "how to beat up a kitty", I implore you to remember that violence almost never solves anything. As much as I'd sometimes loooooooooove to launch Higgy the Cat out of a cannon (into a big net! It would be adorable!), beating up a kitty is nothing but a deplorable act of cruelty.

I'm not sure I've got anything for the person who found this site for "bad half marathon experience", either. I mean, I've only run two half marathons and have gotten to high-five the mayor of Philly, the GEICO gekko, a giant cookie, people in colonial garb, and the Drexel Dragon. How does it get better than that...except for winning?

And I certainly can't really help you with that.

Friday Haiku, Volume III

You should run away.
This creepy little kitten
Is staring at you.
Since my legs are demanding a rest day today, I'll no doubt be murdered by this terrifying creature, which in an ancient Japanese legend (that I just made up) is a demon said to gobble up slothful runners who rest on Friday.

In reality, this is our huggable, cheerful little friend, Elizabeth the Kitten, who spends most of her time napping peaceably on people's laps or her favorite chair. She does stare in menacing fashion quite often, but she's likely as not to purring loudly while doing so, hoping for attention and/or kitten food.

She certainly wouldn't hurt anyone.


Right?

Brian vs. A Cat

I have an arch-enemy, a nemesis, a thorn in my side. While this could be seen as a negative, it's really not. Superman's super-ness springs from not just his powers but his prowess in thwarting the evil plans of Lex Luthor. Batman's life would be pretty boring without the Joker. Being an Eagles fan is just a little more exciting when it's Cowboys week.

My nemesis isn't a supervillain, a neighbor I have to "keep up with", another runner, or a coworker gunning for the same promotions. He's a cuddly eight-pound brown tabby named Higgy the Cat. (Actually, his name is Higgenbaffum, but that's another story.)

(Photo by Christina Stetler Photography)

Higgy's a nice cat, a friendly, affectionate 13-year old who still in many ways acts like a kitten. He's a genius at getting into things, is very athletic for his age (There's no such thing as "cat years", but a chart at the vet's office says that 13 for a cat is the equivalent of the early 70s for a human), and loves to play and start fights with his brother Pooka and his adopted little sister Elizabeth, who is often terrified of him.

The problem is that Higgy is evil has a different weight-loss strategy than I do. I often strike out at the diet part of diet and exercise, but I make up for it on the exercise. Higgy, on the other hand, has hyperthyroidism, which means that he has a nuclear metabolism that has caused him to lose over half of his body weight over the past three years. (He used to be 18 pounds.) So, he's insatiably hungry very, very often, and when he's not eating he's howling and knocking things over, making it a challenge to work from home. Pooka has the same condition, but since Pooka spends most of his time doing his impression of a throw rug, he's a little more manageable.

I'm happy to report that Higgy is on thyroid medication and is responding very well. But his medication has made him very finicky, and the only cat food he likes is Elizabeth's, which consists of huge, crunchy kibbles that take Higgy forever to eat. Thus, it's hard for him to eat enough to maintain even his reduced weight. To correct this, our vet recommended that we give him baby food and that occasional table scraps are ok, as long as they don't have chocolate, since caffeine is deadly to cats.

So, Higgy gets cake. And cheese. And crackers. And once you give him a crumb, begging turns into all-out frontal assault. But when I made a spinach salad for lunch, I did not expect it to be attacked by the tabby. Since when have cats liked spinach salad? Since when have I liked spinach salad?

(Blurry photo by me)

I fought him off this time. I won the battle, but the war's outcome is still very much in doubt.

Oh yeah, running. I ran 10 miles this morning 1:34:20. Awesome. I'll probably go for a shorter run tomorrow, 8-10 on Friday, and probably take the weekend off.