Stubborn Has Its Place

I swear sometimes the gods are out to get me.  Not out of some bizarre sense of paranoia, or some weird case of the planets not aligning properly, and a moon being the wrong house, (or some such astrological oddity), I just really think something is doing it’s best to try my non-existent sense of patience.  And I’m OVER IT.

over it

#KneeGate2015 aside, it seems lately as though this great big beautiful – often pain in my dupa – thing called life, seems to occasionally thrive on upsetting the apple cart.  Over and over and over again.  And over.  Like Groundhog Day over.  Let’s review the recent past shall we?  Then you can tell me if I’m just being paranoid.  Or whiney.  Okay, that part is true.  Humor me.

  1. Approximately two weeks after getting the all clear to get back to running, and having a couple of the most glorious short runs I’ve had in years, after a particularly tough run on the dreadmill at PT, the pain-free gloriousness came to a screeching halt.
  2. The stress level in my job has shot through the roof.  Big company takes over little company because little company was damn good at what it did, and did it EFFICIENTLY.  Now THERE’S a word unheard of in said big company.  Hence, Burj Khalifa roof-sized stress.
  3. Go to Key West, meet up with professional body builder/personal trainer/BFF since kindergarten, gain some badly needed inspiration, return home ready to hit the gym/pavement with a renewed sense of purpose, and CATCH A DUPA-KICKING COLD.

See what I’m saying?


All right.  Enough of THAT crap.

Now that I’ve got all the whiny bitching out of my system, time for one of my favorite mantras…..MOVING ON.  I’m on the upside of my once-a-year case of the plague, the knees are feeling much less achy, and work is….well…  I hate it, but it does keep a roof over my head, food in the Wonder Mutt’s bowl, and Disney addictions paid for, so I can’t really complain TOO much.

heavy sighReally, all of this is just built up aggravation – and a good-sized chunk of worry – that Wine and Dine is only (gulp!) 76 days away.  Even though I’m not worried about time this time around, I AM worried about hitting the mileage with training time to spare.  So far, I’ve only hit 5k, and it doesn’t take a mathematician to figure out I don’t have a whole lotta time to get those miles chewed up and spit out.  Am I having a bit of a freak out?  Oh yeah.  Will I pull my head out of my ass and get over it?  Probably.  Do I have a choice but to do just that?  Nope.

nope grumpy cat

Deal with it stupid human.

So this is how it’s gonna go.  This whiny chica is going to pull on her big girl panties, (now there’s an image you won’t be able to get out of your head, sorrynotsorry), take another dose of vitamin C and echinacea, smack a Ronda Rousey attitude into her head, and get this show on the road.  The gods may be trying to test me and test me good, but there’s enough stubbornness, determination, and just plain bull-headedness to get past all this crap.  Just ask the hubby.  He doesn’t call me concrete-head just because he loves me.

I love you. Really. I do. Really.

I love you. Really. I do. Really.

Enjoy the ride.

How do you handle all the crap life throws at you?  Do you have a stubborn streak or do you tend to just let things bounce off of you?  Any sage words of advise for an impatient, mule-headed, obstinate runner?

Now I Understand

For those of you who may not know, I’m a bit techno-challenged.  And at this particular moment, after having spent an hour putting together today’s blog – ONLY TO HAVE IT SUCKED INTO THE EVIL VORTEX OF WORDPRESS NOTHINGNESS – I’m going to maintain what little control I still possess and leave you with this.  Plus, if I’m allowed to maintain possession of my laptop for one minute longer, it shall end up in a million little pieces as I attempt to embed it in my living room wall.  And then I would only be terrified Wonder Mutt might end up with busted up pieces of this source of all Black Dog aggravation in her precious little paws.  So for now….Peace out peeps!


Even Grumpy Cat understands.


Enjoy the ride.

Ever been there?  You know.  Spend all night on a piece of literary geniusness, only to have it blown into blogworld oblivion?  Did you end up with a rather interesting piece of modern impressionistic artwork or just a big, fat mess?

Friday Funny – The Princess Edition

As I get ready to hit the road and head on up to Disney World as an official Princess spectator, I thought it only appropriate to pay homage to all princesses – both of the Disney persuasion and otherwise – the best way I know how….with just a little bit of royal snarkiness.

FF Grumpy cat princess animals pics


Enjoy the ride.

Good luck to everyone running this weekend!  Be sure to say hi on your way past me Sunday morning.  I’ll be the one with a bottle of tequila in my paws, trying to stay warm.  JUST KIDDING DISNEY POLICE.  JUST KIDDING…..

Friday Funny

To everyone running this weekend in Disney World, especially Nicole and Jenn, who are taking on Dopey, and Kellie, who’s running her first marathon EVER, (I hear there’s bacon and grapefruit beer at the finish!), everyone here at Black Dog Runs Disney wishes you the best of luck.  And to help you along your miles, we thought some words of wisdom from Grumpy Cat might provide some much needed inspiration.

Grump Cat Finish Line


But keep those feet a-truckin’ anyway!  Good luck everybody!!!


Enjoy the ride.

Have an awesome weekend everyone and make sure to ENJOY THE MOMENT!!

Heads Or Tails

I freely admit it.  A couple of weeks ago, I felt like this.

Whatever it


After my last visit to The Man resulted in a big KO to my running career, I understandably went into my own special state of pissheadedness. (Yes, that is an actual state of mind.  Swear. Look it up.)  Coupled with the fact that I could no longer visit my lovely state of calmness, calorie burning, mind numbing, pavement pounding, was the fact that after more than four years – yes, YEARS – the hubby finally sought a third opinion, (courtesy of The Man), on his ongoing foot problems.  One visit to this new foot guy and VOILA!  He can run!  AGAIN!  Now, by NO means get me wrong here.  I am THRILLED beyond belief that he can run virtually pain-free after so many years.  It’s the damn IRONY of the friggin’ situation that gets to me.  Why, after all this time, is he suddenly able to start running again at the same exact moment I have to stop?!?  I truly believe that somewhere, in some cosmic karmic hell, some little bratty demon, who most likely got beat up on the playground when he was an even smaller little bratty baby demon, is laughing his dupa off at all of this.  You will pay one day you obnoxious little brat.  Oh yes, you will pay.  Once I go all Maleficent on your dupa.


Until that moment though, I am patiently – okay, not so much – waiting for the day that I can get back into these.

Like the wind.  Really.

Hi babies.  Mommy misses you.  A LOT.

I don’t mind plopping my happy dupa on stationary bikes, recumbent bikes, or walking the dreadmill.  Wonder Mutt is thrilled as she’s getting in even more quality sniffing time as the Mom Person is taking her for a lot more walking than usual.  How is that even possible?  Hmmmmm……

Let's GOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Can we go? Can we go?  Can we? Can we? Huh? Huh? Huh?  Let’s GOOOOOOO!!!!!!

But.  Let’s be honest.  If runners were patient people, then we probably wouldn’t BE runners.  We want to be crossing that finish line already.  Even if that finish line is at least three FREAKING MONTHS AWAY.  But.  I will get there.  One way or another.

Just. Gotta. Stretch.

Just. Gotta. Try….

In the meantime though, I know myself well enough to know there will be moments of absolute insanity, pouting, tears, and possibly even some intermittent throwing of inanimate objects.  Which may or may not include said Brooks Ghost 7’s.  But I’ll get over it quickly enough, put on my big girl pants which hopefully will not get any bigger, and do what I have to do to heal.  Of course, being the oh-so-patient girl that I am, (N-O-T), I may not even wait the requested three months and end up going back to The Man and tell him to just slice me open and let’s get this crap fixed.  The thought of surgery scares the crap out of me, but if it will get me back on the road again, (anyone else hearing REO Speedwagon music?), then I’m all in.



So let’s hear it people.  What’s your opinion?  Should I be patient and see how it goes, more than likely to end up right back here again?  Or should I just bite the bullet and get it over with?  I’m curious to see what people think.  Please, weigh in!  We’ll consider this the first official unofficial BDRD opinion poll.  Winners will win a year’s worth of free Moose Tracks.  You’re welcome.


Enjoy the ride.

What do you think?  Should I try to be patient and see how it goes, or go back to The Man and go the surgical route instead?  

Ever Feel Like This?

Oh yes, it’s a Monday.  After a long weekend.  And this Black Dog is dragging doggy dupa today.  So to hold you over until my next brain vomit – no worries, you’ll only have to wait until tomorrow – please allow Grumpy Cat to get you through your day.  If you can manage to get your head up off your keyboard.


Enjoy the ride.

What kind of shenanigans did you get into this long holiday weekend?

The Journey Back to the Pavement

It’s been two months since I started going to this place.

Here we go...again.

Here we go…again.

Remember how I said I was less than thrilled about going down this road again?  I can honestly tell you that after the last few months, I’m definitely…..well…..hmmm…..kinda sorta liking it.  And kinda sorta not.  Here’s why…

gym stuff


Let me run this malarky-ness by you so you get where I’m coming from.

1.  Crowded:  I get the place is going to be like a zoo at 5 o’clock at night.  I even managed to change my work schedule a bit so I could get out a little earlier and miss at least some of the shenanigans.  I was pretty hopeful that first Monday when I got there at five and found it wasn’t too bad.  Silly me didn’t realize it was vacation week and the typical teenage circus had already hit the let-me-see-how-awesomely-I-can-flex-and-play-on-my-phone-at-the-same-time circuit.  Silly adult who just wants to get in, work out, and get out.  Free weights are for stepping on, not bicep exercises.  Of course it would help considerably if they weren’t all crammed in one corner of this huge space.  Hmmm, I wonder if a fabulous interior decorator might come in handy here?

fab cat


2. Lazy members: three words – wipes and cleaner.  Seriously, it’s RIGHT THERE.  Use it.



3. Flocks of kids: Disclaimer – they don’t ALL annoy me.  Just the ones who spend more time looking around to see who is there, the ones constantly on their phones while sitting on a machine, and especially the ones who can’t take their eyes off themselves in the mirrors.  Scratch that.  I love those kids.  They make me laugh.  Hard.

Who's your daddy?

Who loves ya?

4. Machine dust imitators: You know who they are. They plop down on a bike, turn on the attached tv, and pedal.  Well, maybe.  Not quite sure what’s being attempted there, but I have to give them credit for getting off the couch. At least their primary one.



5. Cranky employees:  Let me be  abundantly clear – I’m not expecting balloons and roses, but would a simple hello be too much to ask?  Or does sticking your hand out for my card just take every ounce of energy you’ve got?  Might I suggest some facial exercises to loosen up those smile muscles.

Whatever it

I. Don’t. Care.

All this aside, I am actually enjoying returning to the world of muscle-bound freaks, cardio queens, and yes, even the phone obsessed kiddies.  Well, maybe not the last group so much, but at least they’re not out smoking pot or plopped on their dupas playing video games.  I know my strength has increased but unfortunately it feels like my appetite – and pant size – has as well.  I’m refusing to step on a scale anytime soon as I don’t want to get all caught up in a stupid number.  That’s not what I am and I refuse to go down that path again.  I have yet to “call it in” and I go cahonies to the wall on each and every workout.  Why bother spending the money and the time if I’m just going to waste it?  I have a singular purpose in mind, (for now anyway) and plan on seeing it through to the end.  And in order to get there, I better keep getting this dupa to the gym.  Teenagers, dust imitators, and all.

Whatcha gonna do?

Whatcha gonna do?


Enjoy the ride.

What irritates you the most when you’re trying to get through a workout at the gym?