Today is the start of the team's second double practice weekend. We played over at Cherry Chase, which is so nice and close to home. The fields are normally great, but today they were damp and soft. Laying out was easier on the bodies of those who actually threw themselves at the ground, but Tyler went out with a rolled ankle mid-practice. His injury made everyone suspicious of the fields, "Hazard disc!" being more common than up calls after that.

With Tyler's ankle sprain, I feel guilty about suggesting the fields. They're close to our house, so way convenient for us. I don't think they're bad fields, and other fields were full (Baylands, other parks). Given the many complaints and comments from the sidelines, however, I think I'll be keeping this field space to myself.

I ran track in junior high school (sorta), high school and college. I wasn't particularly fast, and kept running shorter and shorter races (the mile in junior high, the 800 in high school and the 400 in college).

Going to a small, division-III school meant that, well, I could still rack up the points at tournaments coming in second or third against a lot of other small schools. I wish I had been stronger mentally, so that I could have been a better runner, but I did okay.

I and three of my teammates held the 4 x 400 relay record from 1991 until it was broken in 2003. Not too bad, actually. Even had our names on the big record board in the women's locker room. Ooooooo, warm fuzzies!

Today, I was goofing off online, randomly googling for friends, when I stumbled across Andy's 9th overall triple jump distance in the Caltech records.

I immediately went to check out the women's top performance's, too. I recognized a lot of names of classmates and teammates on the list, though many of them were lower on the list. The relay times weren't listed, which disappointed me a little bit, until I realized, holy crap! one of my times was listed! I was the 8th fastest 400m female Caltech runner. Holy crap!

I showed the times to Kris, and his first comment was, "Hey! You were fast!" I was always disappointed that I never broke 60 seconds, but he commented, "I don't know that I could run that fast now. I'll have to try."

Almost makes me want to train to try again, now that I know how to be mentally tougher.

Almost.

I actually remember the race, which is funny. The meet was the last one I would run in for Caltech, might have been the Division 3 qualifiers or something. I lined up in a lane just inside of a runner who, quite honestly, looked like a chump to me. I remember thinking there was no way I was going to lose to this woman. The gun went off, around the first curve we went, and I passed her, as I should since I was in the inside lane.

Coming around the last curve, I remember hearing her footsteps. I remember thinking again, "No way," and starting to run faster, as hard I as I could on those last 100 meters. My focus was on staying ahead of that woman, not on the finish line, on that woman.

I beat her, coming in 4th or 5th in the race. My team's assistant coach's daughter came in first with a time around 59 seconds.

After the race, I walked back to the bleachers to sit with my team, as my coach was jumping around all excited, and my boyfriend was laughing. Both were excited to see me. What happened, I asked. Why was everyone so excited?

Coach showed me my time, which was 3-4 seconds faster than my previous season's best, which was great. However, Rob (the boyfriend) told me about how the woman I had heard had been starting to catch me around the back curve, but, come that back straight, I had clearly run as I had never run before, the gap between us growing dramatically with every step.

By the end of the race, the only footsteps I had heard were my own.

So, this morning as I was working on Ben's computer trying to get his wireless connection going, I hear this crash in the kitchen, followed by Bella's howling. Lots of skittering footsteps as Annie skidded across the kitchen floor into the dining room, then high tailed it back into her crate.

Thinking this was odd behavior, even for Annie, I walked into the kitchen and called her out of her crate. She wouldn't come out. I reached down to pull her out, and she completely resisted. Puzzled, I tugged harder, and she leapt out of the crate onto one of the dog beds in the kitchen and immediately started the pooch scootch (you know, where the butt is firmly planted on the ground, both hind legs are in the air in front of the dog, and she pulls herself along with her front legs and she wipes her butt on the floor).

I can't stand when the dogs do this, so I nipped her on the nose when she started, and she immediately laid down and then I saw it. It looked like a leaf stuck to her butt.

I grabbed her tummy under her back legs, wrapped my other arm around her chest, stood up and called for Lisa to open the back door for me, please, as I carried Annie out the door. I set her front paws down, but kept a lock on her back end, keeping it in the air, as I tried to figure out what was stuck in the dog's butt.

When Lisa offered a paper towel, I accepted, reached down and pulled on the leaf hanging onto Annie's butt.

And pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

I pulled out a piece of rope about 12" long, dropping it on the ground when it finally all came out, and releasing Annie who ran away joyfully.

I looked at it for a few moments before recognition dawned on me and I thought, "Yep, he was right," as I recalled the conversation I had with Andy last night. He had commented that Annie might have gotten the meat juice soaked paper towel I had left on the cutting board and Andy had thrown in the dry trashcan (vs. the wet trashcan, which is under the sink, away from prying doggie mouths). He commented,

Heh! Sorry about that. I put it in the trash without realizing it was low
enough to be eaten. Then I looked back a minute later and she was hanging
out next to the trash looking at me wondering whether she was going to be
scolded. I didn't figure out what was up until another minute later.

I can just hear Annie's thoughts from last night: "Yes, I know I was bad, but it's sooooooooo taaaaaaaaasteeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Dumb dog.

Megan organized communal dinner as Ben and Lisa came into town for a near-week visit. Ben and Lisa are planning on staying with us for most of their trip, and we are waaaaay excited about their stay.

Lisa once made a comment when we visited them a while ago, about how, even after the long absense, we were able to just slide back into the comfort zone of our friendships when we were together again.

Lisa said it far more eloquently and succinctly than I just did.

This evening, I was totally overwhelmed with the same feeling Lisa expressed as we arranged for dinner with Megan and Lisa. Lisa and I talked about topics that are so personal for me, ones that I hold so close to my chest. Yet, talking to her about them made them less worrisome, less shameful in some cases, more bearable in others.

I miss greatly having someone I could talk to this way, knowing there isn't any judgement, only a desire to listen and help.

Tonight, as Andy and Kris were playing Guitar Hero after dinner, I tried to ask Kris a question. When he didn't answer, I asked again. Andy responded.

"Hey, so, what happens if..."

"Busy!"

"How can you expect to play with all the adoring fans if you can't hit the notes when one person is talking to you?"

"The middle finger stops working when you talk."