When 2 + 2 = 5

Life continues to settle back to something approaching normal. As I had presumed, the return jet lag was hardly existent so aside from the general fatigue associated with long trips, my biorhythms remained on their regular schedule. I'm sure someone somewhere could explain and if I were really motivated I'd look it up myself (I'm not), but in terms of time zones I would figure adding hours is less taxing than subtracting hours. Fascinating though this opening paragraph is, I believe it is best to move on...

I've had several comments from various friends/relatives saying they enjoyed my daily roundups on all things trip related. It just seems that if one's got the technology available one might as well use it. Plus, it was great fun to haul the heaviest laptop ever created across the ocean and two countries just so people known/unknown could live vicariously through my bemused world view. A few have indicated that they were disappointed to not receive an alias. It's nothing personal, it's just that they're not that important to me.

I keed.

Actually, Cybil (the potty-mouthed, hip hop loving mother of 4) and Camille (Disney mom of 2, Tech graduate/fan and all around swell gal) are two of my closest, dearest friends. I probably should write down who's who to keep it straight. And so should you. Right now.

Anyway, in the run-up to everything for the trip, I sort of let my time slip up on me and kinda, sorta forgot to really start the real training for the marathon. I'd been thinking the week we were gone would be the 2nd of the 18-week schedule.

It was actually the 4th.

Instead of thinking, I probably should have actually counted. So in place of doing the massive 6 miler I was expected tomorrow, I will jump all the way to 12. Huzzah. Since the 8 miles I did on Wednesday didn't cause any trouble, I figure I should be able to stumble through this first really long run.

That is as long as I don't get attacked by dogs.

Running out in the country as I do is generally the way to go. Far less traffic and it's much easier for me to get into a running mindset. The only drawback being that any car I do meet tends to be "openin' her up" since the likelihood of any local constable is somewhat less than doubtful.

And then there's when the dogs come out.

On my route, there's only one area dogs are known to roam. I'm not sure if they're overprotective pets or strays agitated at the fact that in some parts of the world their kin are considered a delicacy, but every now and then I can hear them bark off in the distance as I wheeze by. Yesterday, they decided it was time for action. Action, I hasten to add, that I was not consulted on nor found particularly necessary.

Just settling in to my run (3 miles) with the mighty King Crimson on the mp3, I got to the danger zone and heard the barking. This time I thought I saw some movement.

Uh oh.

Sure enough out come two mongrels of multiple breeds snarling, growling and open for bidness. Being a reasonably bright fellow, I did what most would do: made for the other side of the road with some haste. About halfway across the yellow line, it occurred to me that I had failed to make sure there wasn't some someone attempting to set a land speed record in my path. Thankfully, there wasn't. To me, it's somewhat of a tossup on being ripped to shreds by mongrels of indeterminate breed or being the latest snazzy accessory now that spinners are a bit played out, even in the middle of nowhere. I can just hear some dude on MTV Cribs bragging about how he got the most tricked out ride of all with a dead honky hood ornament.

Some great reward.

Nevertheless, fate was with me in that regard though it did little to stop the progress of my new friends.

Herewith evasive action phase 2: run faster.

Unfortunately, I had little time to be amazed at my heretofore unknown speed since dogs have this uncanny ability to mirror their prey's action. Gulp.

Herewith evasive action phase 3: run onto porch of nearby house.

I'm not entirely sure what I expected this to accomplish since no one was home. I guess I thought it would be better to have my bloody carcass safely out of the road and easier for cleanup. There were some plastic chairs that would have made a decent enough barrier in a lion tamer sort of way but thankfully I didn't have to find out. As soon as I entered the yard, the dogs backed off and calmed down. Phew.

Aside from using up most of my remaining energy in the dead sprint to get away from the mongrels and the general not-too-good feeling of staring snarling death in the face, there were no repercussions. Actually, it merely has expedited my purchase/carrying of pepper spray on these runs. Something, I fully admit, I should have long ago done.

That, and confirming my belief that all dogs should be chained up in a windowless, dark basement. Or shot.

Cats are where its at.