06 December 2009

Disparity of progress

Jack and I have been keeping up a fairly vigorous program of exercise.  Me, because I'm waiting on a set of orders and don't want to show up fat and sleepy, and him...well, because a tired dog is a good dog.

We've been running a lot, but this morning I decided we'd take a little time, go out to an old railbed (tracks long gone), and go for a good, long, brisk trudge.  I tossed a couple five-pound weights and bottles of water into a little backpack just to make it more interesting.



We took off at a brisk, clip and, with the exception of road crossings and a certain bridge, maintained it.  For 46:00 minutes.  At which point we ran out of trail.  Actually, the good people of Columbus are turning a big section of the old tracks into a "multi-use trail," and we hit the point where the trail was torn up and there were large pieces of construction equipment.  So...we turned around.

Since this evolution was not sucking quite enough yet, I decided that we could jog a little bit to break up the brisk walking.  Ah, yes...there's that sucking sound I was looking for.



Note the surface under the happy dog.  Apparently, the vast majority of the whole rail bed is covered in rocks.  I had noticed this as we trudged out, but really noticed it when we were trotting coming back in.  I'm really not the most coordinated woman in the world, so it was very slow and careful trotting.

(Because the whole concept of me going on orders in the intermediate future would be seriously impeded if I  broke an ankle jogging through rocks with my dog.  Also, I'd have to figure out my TriCare coverage)

We made great time coming back, until, maybe half a mile from the Jeep, we encountered the Bridge Of Satan.  On the way out, I'd figured we could just walk across it.  This was stupid, and scary.  Please observe said bridge:




Yeah.  Jack and I made it not even ten feet out on it before I realized that was a very bad idea.  Of course, once you're picking your way across a rotting railroad trestle with you four-legged buddy, turning around is even more of a problem.  So we crept across.  The ties, of course, were just far enough apart that my buddy could have gone between them - it was, I repeat, a very bad idea.  Also scary.  So on the return, we opted to go under and around.



This was a much better approach.  And, because it was steep, it also meant that you-know-who got to have his leash off

After a brief time-out to play in the creek, he got hooked back up and we climbed out to the road, where it was a short jog back to the Jeep (total of 94:00 on the trail, bumper and back).

Now - to explain the post title...  We've been, as I said, doing a lot of this stuff lately.  And I'm in better shape than I was a month ago.  Problem is, Jack is in waaaaay better shape than he was a month ago, and he already had me beat.  So we run, or we trudge, and he's not wearing out anymore.  More annoying, he is not creaking around the house like I am.  Asleep in his bed - yes.  Groaning and complaining - no

Sigh.  Guess that's the advantage to being the black lab.  In my favor, I can drive and order cheeseburgers.

05 December 2009

We [HEART] Football

We managed a park run, a little cleaning and I even made it to the store and back, leaving the entire afternoon/evening free for watching college football.

I'm still trying to figure out which teams I like and which I don't in the SEC.  Jack has thrown his support firmly behind Alabama today, but that may have more to do with a residual fear of alligators from our time in Florida.  I'm kind of sick of hearing the sports media gushing like 12-year-old girls over Tim Tebow, though, so I guess both the dog and I will be cheering for the Tide.

03 December 2009

Tales from the internet

We're not going to dwell on the epic Hell and Fail that is Abby Trying To Do Christmas Shopping.  I'm mildly irked that it seems to be socially unacceptable to buy all my loved ones a flashlight every year (because, really, what says I love you and care about you better than a flashlight?  It'll keep you safe, it's good for morale, and you can never have too many).

All that aside, I was browsing the Cabela's website, desperate to see if there was a single website that might, just might, offer more than one of the gifts I'm looking for (answe - no).

Did you know you can buy a caribou mount from Cabelas?  Like a dead caribou shoulder mount?  Like you might have made if you shot a caribou?  But, I guess, if you'd never shot a caribou but kinda wish you had? 

Now, I know that as the woman who bought a whimsical mounted squirrel, I may only have limited credibility on the subject, but I think there's something a little weird about buying a big-game mount.  Also, the caribou are not whimsical, and are not pieces of art, which is how I categorize my squirrel.

Also available are mule deer, and "life-sized" mountains goats and nyala (nyalas?  some deer-looking beast).  I'm not really sure if that means those animals are fabricated and not actual dead critters, or if they're just indicating those mounts are not shrunken goats or nyalas.

Sorry, loved ones - nobody's getting a caribou this year.