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.)
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.
I had the best of intentions yesterday. I drove into Philadelphia yesterday morning for an all-day meeting at my company's headquarters. I packed a bag with running gear to go for what I'm sure would have been a beautiful run either along the Schuylkill River or Kelly Drive, or maybe a less scenic but no less fun excursion over to my old apartment building at 42nd & Pine, just to see if the place is still standing. It was, after all, when I lived in this apartment that I made my first attempt to incorporate running into my workout regimen (not counting basketball practices, when I didn't really have a choice).
My plan made perfect sense, too. Rather than fight rush hour traffic out of the city at 5:30, I'd run for an hour or an hour and a half, and cruise easily home.
But after a really long, productive day of meetings, I was really tired. And many of my colleagues live even farther from the home office than I do, and get in even less frequently than the 2-3 times a year I make the trip in. So, I invited myself out to dinner at the Continental instead of running.
I'd love to say I regretted it, but I'd be lying.
Cheesesteak Eggrolls. Go to the Continental Mid-town at 18th and Chestnut and order them. (Well, not right now since they're only on the dinner menu.) Trust me on this one.
(Sorry to put out two of these in a row, but what I'm eating is usually more interesting than where I'm running...if I'm running.)
I love a good breakfast sandwich. I also love waffles. I love maple, too. So, when Dunkin' Donuts invented a maple-sausage waffle sandwich last year, they unknowingly created a pipeline directly to my wallet.
Now, they've brought it back, except now -- as if it wasn't already ridiculous -- the waffles are now blueberry waffles.
I'll be honest, I wasn't sure about the blueberries. I'm a maple syrup fiend, so I usually just opt for plain pancakes or waffles and load 'em up with maple. Oh wait, chocolate chips are good, too. But anyway...I was a little worried about how blueberries would mix with the taste of the sausage, egg, and cheese.
I was worried for nothing...the taste of blueberry is subtle rather than overpowering, and the delicious aroma of the blueberry waffles is a definite positive.
Really, the only negative is that this sandwich is only available through June, which means I'm going to be at Dunkin' even more than usual during the next month and a half...and I'm already there way more than I should be.
Evil. Evil. Evil.
Perhaps if the Tasty Baking Co. had invented these sooner, it would not be having such deep financial difficulties.
Take just one sniff of their maple syrup aroma and you too will be unable to resist.
It appears as the most deeply orange cheese you've ever seen, sandwiched between two thin waffle crisps. It must be stopped, lest it destroy all life with its deliciousness.
Maybe you are stronger than I am. Maybe there is still hope for you.
But consider yourself warned.
(Blurry photo by me)
