Again?

2 miles.  18:18.  So, my fastest run of the new era, but that's not really important.

What's important:

• No compartment syndrome pain through 4 two-mile runs (last Thursday, last Saturday, Tuesday, and today).  Again, not conclusive by any means, but a good sign.
• I felt really out-of-breath.  I was going to do two mile runs this week and next weekend, and then start trying to move up, but I feel like I'll probably be "stuck" on two a little longer than that.  A) I want to be cautious and B) I hate running in warm weather, so this was the worst time for me to begin a comeback.  I'd like to push myself up to 3, even if I have to mix in some walking, in the next two weeks just to get a sense of if my symptoms are really better, or if they only seem better because I am not running far enough.
• Someone upstairs is clearly telling me that running is stupid and I shouldn't do it anymore.:

Go Away, Nature!

I live on a back road in a semi-rural area, but for safety and laziness reasons I usually run in a slightly flatter, sidewalk equipped, normal suburban neighborhood a few miles away.  

But, even though I was in normal American suburban neighborhood and not my backwoods trail of terror, I still a saw a big blacksnake on my two-mile run this morning. 

I couldn't get my camera phone to work (to either dial 911 or take a picture), so here is an artist's rendering:

Needless to say, I ran a bit faster than I did on Saturday.

Facing My Fear (Or, I Hate Nature)

In a previous blog post, I wrote about how I've been bitten by more animals than you, most notably a poisonous snake.  As a result, I am rather afraid of snakes to put it mildly.  

So, I was not happy when we came home from the grocery store, and I saw this:

("Hi. I'm in the neighborhood selling some medicinal oil that I think you'll be VERY interested in'."*)

I figured our choices were:

1. Run away and never return, living the rest of our lives in Chris' car and earning a meager but satisfying living as traveling minstrels.  Sorry, cats.  You're on your own.


2. Find a way to get the mf-ing snake off this mf-ing door.

3. Adopt a pet mongoose and/or honey badger.


Reluctantly, I chose door #2, even though that road leads to certain death.  I put on a hooded sweatshirt that was in Chris' car to cover as much exposed skin as I could.  I was pretty sure that this snake was a blacksnake, one of the many non-poisonous models, but that still didn't make me in any hurry to get chomped by it.

My heart pounding with terror, I grabbed what I thought was my best weapon -- a snow broom that I use to clean snow from our cars, and knocked the snake off the door and swept (actually it was more of a slap shot) it down into the yard.  The whole ordeal lasted about five seconds but trust me, they were a pretty terrifying five terrifying seconds and I felt much more macho than I actually am, afterward. It also took about 45 minutes and a beer before I finally calmed down.

Anyway, this puts a pretty big damper on my running career, since I'll never be stepping outside again, but I still might use this blog to post my increasingly insane ramblings as I adapt to the lifestyle of a hermit.

*Special thanks to Chris for the "snake oil" joke.