Well, first things first: I shan't make you wait a moment longer -in suspense, of course- to hear about my weekend.
It was one of those weekends where you just seem to keep striking out. I won't bore you with the details of all of it, but please, indulge me on this one teensy weensy thing: snacks at the football game. If you have read my most recent post, you will know that I was ecstatic to eat my heart out (literally) at the football game I attended this weekend. Sports hold no interest for me, but that is simply not the case when it comes to the array of over-priced goodies available to the drooling masses. Allow me to expand on this.
Once again, I tore myself out of bed at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday morning. Why, you ask? Well, to go running, of course! You see, it was especially important that I run this past Saturday morning as my planned consumption rate would reach vomit-inducing levels for the subsequent afternoon/evening. At the end of each week, the allure of all the foods I didn't allow myself during the week slips out of my control. This always leads to an unbelievable feeling of guilt on Sunday night, but I somehow find myself repeating the cycle over and over again. Yet, this past Saturday, I decided I would remain (somewhat) in control of my intake and limit what I ate until the game itself. This meant no stuffing my face at tailgates. Ish. I knew I would need something to look forward to, so I decided to hold off and allow myself a Runza in the third quarter.
In an unusually successful attempt at self-control, we entered the stadium and I passed over every tantalizing smell with nothing but a water bottle in hand by the time we sat down. The stadium was bursting at the seams with people, like a fat girl in a prom dress. However, even my hatred for crowds didn't phase me with the anticipation of a Runza in mind. Alas, I was not able to hold off without difficulty; dozens of Runza vendors continued to maneuver by, melodically calling over the heckling crowd, offering delicacies wrapped in foil. The clock ticked ever so slowly and I found myself yawning when the big screen prompted the crowds to "Make some noise!" Don't fall asleep or you won't get your Runza, my hypothalamus warned.
Little by little, I began to lose patience, yet my will-power prevailed! After over two hours of witnessing more action from yellow flags than from players and watching cheerleaders, thrusting like they were on Toddlers and Tiaras, I was ready for some real excitement.
But, lo! The Runza vendors ceased to shuffle by my seat! They had been all through the first half! What on earth was happening????? It wouldn't be until the end of the third quarter, when Habibi proposed that we leave to beat the traffic, that I would learn that the stadium had run completely out of Runzas during half time. Heartbroken, we made our way home, sans stadium Runza.
Fortunately, my Saturday morning run was not in vain. I more than made up for the lack of Runza later during the weekend, and it enabled me to lengthen my run this morning by a little over a mile. I am now up to about 4.5 miles per run! And what a fortunate thing that is, because of a little chocolate lab....
This morning, on the last leg of my new route, I came across a chocolate lab pup. OK, maybe he wasn't a pup, but he couldn't have been over a year. Elementary school age, really (in dog years). Anyway, sweetest dog! I assumed he was running with the man he had been following, but discovered that this was not the case. He had escaped and had been following this man since who knows when.
Being the sucker that I am for any and all animals (except spiders), I couldn't abandon this dog. We live near a busy street and I knew he might get hit! So, I made the decision that he would run the rest of the way home with me and we'd call the Humane Society.
We were doing a great job, staying together, until Dog spotted another dog. Obviously, being the friendly (and somewhat naive) pooch that he is, he had to go say hello. Fortunately, Other Dog was little and didn't try to bite either one of us. Even better, there was a human standing there to help me field the leashless, collarless chocolate lab that had suddenly taken a liking to this fluffy, white puff of a dog (so cute). I asked Human if he knew Dog, but he did not. Soon, a woman came out of the house and offered to let me borrow a leash. Nice neighbors! I was able to make it home with Dog.
Once I got home with Dog, I sounded the alarm to Habibi! I can only imagine how surprised he wasn't to have his wife return home with a random dog. Let's face it: It isn't the weirdest thing I've done since we've been a couple. After playing with Dog -whom Habibi had renamed "Chocolate Rain" like the weird YouTube video from a couple years ago- we got a hold of the Humane Society. Habibi agreed to take C.R. up there, where he would be safe from traffic and the elements. A lump rose in my throat as I watched them walk to the car. Shit. In that short time, I had grown attached.
All day today I have been unable to get C.R. (or that stupid song, which I have included here for your reference: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwTZ2xpQwpA) off my mind. I hope he gets a yummy treat and makes new friends at the Humane Society. If I could see him again, this is what I would say:
Dear Chocolate Rain,
I love you and hope you have a good life! Please don't bite anyone.
Love,
Your new friend
Everyone else, please give your pets a hug tonight. If you don't have one, hug your favorite stuffed animal and think about adopting a critter who needs a home.
It was one of those weekends where you just seem to keep striking out. I won't bore you with the details of all of it, but please, indulge me on this one teensy weensy thing: snacks at the football game. If you have read my most recent post, you will know that I was ecstatic to eat my heart out (literally) at the football game I attended this weekend. Sports hold no interest for me, but that is simply not the case when it comes to the array of over-priced goodies available to the drooling masses. Allow me to expand on this.
Once again, I tore myself out of bed at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday morning. Why, you ask? Well, to go running, of course! You see, it was especially important that I run this past Saturday morning as my planned consumption rate would reach vomit-inducing levels for the subsequent afternoon/evening. At the end of each week, the allure of all the foods I didn't allow myself during the week slips out of my control. This always leads to an unbelievable feeling of guilt on Sunday night, but I somehow find myself repeating the cycle over and over again. Yet, this past Saturday, I decided I would remain (somewhat) in control of my intake and limit what I ate until the game itself. This meant no stuffing my face at tailgates. Ish. I knew I would need something to look forward to, so I decided to hold off and allow myself a Runza in the third quarter.
In an unusually successful attempt at self-control, we entered the stadium and I passed over every tantalizing smell with nothing but a water bottle in hand by the time we sat down. The stadium was bursting at the seams with people, like a fat girl in a prom dress. However, even my hatred for crowds didn't phase me with the anticipation of a Runza in mind. Alas, I was not able to hold off without difficulty; dozens of Runza vendors continued to maneuver by, melodically calling over the heckling crowd, offering delicacies wrapped in foil. The clock ticked ever so slowly and I found myself yawning when the big screen prompted the crowds to "Make some noise!" Don't fall asleep or you won't get your Runza, my hypothalamus warned.
Little by little, I began to lose patience, yet my will-power prevailed! After over two hours of witnessing more action from yellow flags than from players and watching cheerleaders, thrusting like they were on Toddlers and Tiaras, I was ready for some real excitement.
But, lo! The Runza vendors ceased to shuffle by my seat! They had been all through the first half! What on earth was happening????? It wouldn't be until the end of the third quarter, when Habibi proposed that we leave to beat the traffic, that I would learn that the stadium had run completely out of Runzas during half time. Heartbroken, we made our way home, sans stadium Runza.
Fortunately, my Saturday morning run was not in vain. I more than made up for the lack of Runza later during the weekend, and it enabled me to lengthen my run this morning by a little over a mile. I am now up to about 4.5 miles per run! And what a fortunate thing that is, because of a little chocolate lab....
This morning, on the last leg of my new route, I came across a chocolate lab pup. OK, maybe he wasn't a pup, but he couldn't have been over a year. Elementary school age, really (in dog years). Anyway, sweetest dog! I assumed he was running with the man he had been following, but discovered that this was not the case. He had escaped and had been following this man since who knows when.
Being the sucker that I am for any and all animals (except spiders), I couldn't abandon this dog. We live near a busy street and I knew he might get hit! So, I made the decision that he would run the rest of the way home with me and we'd call the Humane Society.
We were doing a great job, staying together, until Dog spotted another dog. Obviously, being the friendly (and somewhat naive) pooch that he is, he had to go say hello. Fortunately, Other Dog was little and didn't try to bite either one of us. Even better, there was a human standing there to help me field the leashless, collarless chocolate lab that had suddenly taken a liking to this fluffy, white puff of a dog (so cute). I asked Human if he knew Dog, but he did not. Soon, a woman came out of the house and offered to let me borrow a leash. Nice neighbors! I was able to make it home with Dog.
Once I got home with Dog, I sounded the alarm to Habibi! I can only imagine how surprised he wasn't to have his wife return home with a random dog. Let's face it: It isn't the weirdest thing I've done since we've been a couple. After playing with Dog -whom Habibi had renamed "Chocolate Rain" like the weird YouTube video from a couple years ago- we got a hold of the Humane Society. Habibi agreed to take C.R. up there, where he would be safe from traffic and the elements. A lump rose in my throat as I watched them walk to the car. Shit. In that short time, I had grown attached.
All day today I have been unable to get C.R. (or that stupid song, which I have included here for your reference: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwTZ2xpQwpA) off my mind. I hope he gets a yummy treat and makes new friends at the Humane Society. If I could see him again, this is what I would say:
Dear Chocolate Rain,
I love you and hope you have a good life! Please don't bite anyone.
Love,
Your new friend
Everyone else, please give your pets a hug tonight. If you don't have one, hug your favorite stuffed animal and think about adopting a critter who needs a home.
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