Zooma Texas 2014

My Medal Tree

I have been "participating" in "races" since 2004. The way I got started is a different story for a different day because this is my first Race Report.

There are only a few reasons I keep doing this to myself.

1. I like swag . . ."free" stuff you get for "racing."

2. Without races, I would never exercise.

Zooma charms

I've been known to only train on race days, but it's clear I'm getting too old for that because today I can barely walk.

So, here it goes. I have "run" a Zooma race every year since 2008 when the first Zooma was held in Annapolis. I love Zooma because it's different from all the others.

1.  It's primarily a women's race, but a few men participate.

2. Great T-shirts, women's cut, but "right" sized. Sometimes in co-ed races, the women's cut shirts are cut a size too small.

3. Good swag. Not just a T-shirt

4. Until this year, all finishers got a charm necklace that you could wear, not a big bulky medal . . .more on that later.

5. Until this year, post-race food was a box lunch, not just bagels and bananas and oranges . They did still have wine and shopping and a band post-race, so that was still a bonus.

 On to the race . . .I knew it wouldn't be pretty.

Since my disastrous marathon hip injury in December,  I have barely done any running. Between MRI, hip injection, piriformis injection, and an unrelated surgery I have run at most 5 miles at a time . . .and NOTHING for 6 weeks.  And, for the past 2 weeks, I've been battling a wicked cold. I'm coughing, and wheezing, and congested. Peak flow is always yellow and no amount of albuterol (in addition to cold medicine, and all my other asthma medications) have been able to touch it. I should have bailed, but I didn't want to end my streak. I figured, I would walk it and collect my medal. I knew it would be slow, but I didn't know it wouldn't be pretty.

So . . .Friday after work, I picked up my friend and we drove to the Resort. I had already picked up my packet, but we went to the "expo" for some shopping and then to Mocktail hour for wine and snacks. We wandered around the pool area, soaked our feet in the hot tub, and had dinner with yummy Apple Crumble for dessert.

Race morning was uneventful, staggered sleepily out of my room, to the parking lot, just in time for the start.  I forgot to take a pre-race picture because I usually don't and forgot I was going to write a race report. But, within a mile, where the heck were all the walkers I'm used to seeing?

Within 2 miles, on a winding and hilly road, where is everybody? I was alone. Wait . . .2 women behind me. Wheh, not quite last. May as well enjoy the view

Mile 5 . . .hey, that's the back of the mile 2 sign? I should have just sat and waited for the crowd and shaved a few miles.These flowers are pretty!!

Mile 7. . .I just found someone and passed a walker. This is her first half-marathon and she doesn't feel prepared. Rock on . . .I'm so proud of her for being out here. And now there are 3 women behind me. I still feel alone.

The out and back section . . .yea!!! I'm not lost. There are other people out here. Maybe I can turn around and shave off some miles. My feet are tired. Those long-horns look relaxed. I wish I were lying down.

Mile 10. . .golf course section, winding up and back and up and back. I can hear the finish line. Oh look, A PONY!!! Pass 2 more women. They don't look happy. AND ALPACA!!! 

Mile 11 . . .pass 4 people. I have a blister on my toe. They seem more unhappy than me. By the turn around at mile 12, only 1 of the 4 is still on the course . . .Did they cut across and shave some distance? Maybe I should have done that.

Mile 13 . . .HORSE!!! Please let me ride to the finish. Oh look, that's a pretty view. Finish line sure is quiet. Thanks for the medal, sir. I know you're bored, but there are a few people still behind me.  Medal has a removable charm that can be added to my collection, but it might be too much effort so I'll probably just leave it on the medal. Must decide later.  

I really need to train in the future because it sure is getting harder and harder to do this without preparation. I set a PR (personal record) for my worst half-marathon time ever . . .Embarrassing as it is . . .here are my results.

 Quick shower. A few trips down the water slide. And then bask in the sun.

I am Elphaba...Part 2

One day in high school, I was running to my friend's car in the rain. He apologized for being late and I shrugged it off saying "I won't melt." He laughed, and said "you're not a witch." HMMMM . . .I was implying that I wasn't sweet as sugar, but . . . . But, even then, he could see that I was a little like Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West. I did always want a pet monkey when I was a child. I think she was misunderstood and wasn't really wicked. She was passionate about animals and could understand that they could speak and we have lots to learn from them. I've learned a lot from what the animals in my adult life have shared with me. I continue to learn from them every day.

Today is Part 2--the animals of my adulthood

Wolfgang

Wolfgang

 Wolfie was my first dog as an adult. He was the last of his litter. No one wanted him because he was "flawed" with a floppy ear. His ear eventually picked up, I think he was waiting for "his" person, and he was a perfect specimen. He was with me during some of the hardest times of my life. He was with me through medical school and residency. He was with me during my divorce. I would have given The Student (my ex-husband) everything we had (and I did) just to keep Wolfie. He picked my new husband, The Musician, and he was a tough critic.  Except for The Musician, Wolfie took a long time to warm up to people. If he didn't warm up to you, you were probably not worth keeping in my life. He was a great judge of character. He taught me that animals do talk to us. He had different vocalizations for different wants, needs, desires, and emotions. And, he understood when I needed something to heal a hurt, and he knew how to heal. He was my second heart dog and the second reason I love his breed. I held on to him for too long because I couldn't bear losing him. But, his mind was already gone and his dignity was going fast. I was afraid every day I went to work that he would be gone when I came home. Finally, I made the most painful, and most loving, decision I could for him. He wasn't alone when he crossed, he was in my arms knowing he was loved. He also taught me to let go when it's time. When we lost him, I didn't know if I could move, or breathe again.

Trixie Belle LuLu

But, Trixie healed me. I loved her, but she was really The Musician's Diva Dog, and that's a different story.

Taz

Taz

Taz was my pet store "rescue." At 9 months, he was still living in a cage waiting to be purchased. He had never seen grass. He was "discounted." He LOVED me and would spin in circles for attention. When I would come home, he would leap into my arms. If I didn't catch him, he didn't care, he would keep jumping. He jumped on the couch and threw himself at me. He was so starved for attention that he would sometimes demand attention in not so pleasant ways, usually with bodily functions. That was his undoing. I loved him. The Student did not. I had to make a choice. I made the wrong one. I learned a lot from Taz. Puppy mills are horrible. Pet stores that sell puppy mill dogs are horrible. And there are no circumstances I can imagine that would ever make me part with my pet.

Not my actual cat, but this is what "she" looked like

Pregnant Orange Tabby: One night in medical school, I pulled into my parking lot and there was this raggedy pregnant tabby huddled under a car to get shelter from the rain. She looked like she was ready to deliver any day. I brought her in and made her a box full of soft socks and rags to sleep in. I fed her warm milk and kitten food. She was soooo content and seemed so comfortable and secure. Then we took her to the vet who was surprised to see a pregnant orange tabby, because she had never seen a female orange tabby. Turns out, HE WASN'T PREGNANT!!!! He was just incredibly fat. So, no more milk and kitten food, it was diet cat food for him. Two days later he was caterwauling at the front door so I let him out and followed him. He looked back a few times, but kept on going. I chased him, but he stayed just out of reach. I guess he figured if he wasn't living the good life, he may as well go back to where he came from. Maybe a diet was why he ran away in the first place. I sighed and waved good-bye and wished him luck.  He taught me to take advantage of the good times because you don't know how long they will last. And he started the lesson that you can't hold on to someone if they don't want to stay, no matter how much you love them. Sometimes, I wish I had learned that one sooner.

Alley loves her leash

Alley is always happy

 After Hurricane Katrina, I volunteered at a church handing out food and supplies to people who lost more than I did . . .(and a few selfish people who took advantage of the charity). Because of those few, I moved on to the animal shelter and spent sweaty, dirty, grimy, heart-breaking days cleaning cages, petting cats, walking dogs, and even feeding a turtle. I read notes that some owners left with the dogs they had to leave behind because they had no way to care for them. I listened to stories of people looking for lost pets. It was a celebration when vanloads went north for homes, but it didn't ease the volume of work. After Wolfie was gone, and Trixie was sick, I didn't want another empty house. The silence of a house without pets is deafening. AlleyKat showed up on Eskie Rescuers United Website..www.eskierescuers.org. It was after we had moved north, but she was found in an Alley after Katrina and was processed through the same shelter I volunteered at.  Another adopter was in line ahead of me, but it fell through. She is the sweetest dog in the universe (if I do say so myself) and knows that everyone loves her. She has no fear of people or dogs.  She loves sitting in the window and watching the world. She is so happy, but also sweet and sensitive. She continues to teach me about enjoying every second of life. 

Alley loves her toys

Because of Alley, we entered the world of fostering. We have been a temporary home for some dogs that came in dirty, stinky, and wormy. And we have been a temporary home for some really amazing dogs. People ask how I can give them up. I can do it because they were never mine, they were always someone else's. I'm just a step in the journey to their furever home. Each dog that goes to a permanent home, means there is more room to rescue the next one who needs me. Yes, I cried when Salty Dog (our first foster) left. And, I have cried for each subsequent foster who has left me. The tears are a mix of sadness because I will miss them, gratitude for the time I had with them, and joy for what is in store for them.

Wall of Fosters

Little old lady KooKoo

KooKoo was a tiny, terrified, brain-damaged, gal.  I suppose if I were 15 pounds and had been thrown from a third story window, I might have issues, too. After 2 weeks, we didn't have any breakthroughs, she was despondent and so fearful. She was elderly and just didn't seem well or happy. She bit us every time we came near. She had an appointment for humane euthanasia with our vet. That morning, she ran around the yard (crooked and falling down) and barked and played. That was not the day. We adopted her because we thought she had only weeks to live and we wanted her to have her own home. She stayed with us for 15 months and when it was time, she told me. She taught me that love can heal all wounds. And she taught me that even if it's for only a short time, love is totally worth it.

Alley and Bunny love each other

Together, we can fly . . .

Goofy Bunny

BunnyNutMuffin was Alley's pick from the foster dogs for her very own companion. Bunny is sensitive and anxious. But, she is loyal and protective. She is the companion you want when you just need someone to just "be there." And, she will not let anyone mess with anyone she loves. She's a total love-bug, unless she perceives a threat and then her bark is big. If she were a human, she would be a fearsome lawyer. Bunny teaches me about true, unconditional, trusting, faithful love...and how to just be "chill." 

BunnyNutMuffin

Relaxin' Bunny

I am Elphaba...Part 1

Disclaimer: All of these pictures are downloaded from google images. Sadly, since these are the animals of my childhood, I don't have any pictures of them to share. 

Several years ago, before zimbio and buzzfeed quizzes were all over Facebook, I took a Facebook quiz . . .what fictional character am I. I was shocked to find out that I was Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West. So . . .I read the book, then I saw the musical (which is NOT quite the same story as the book) . . .twice. I saw it again last night and I have acknowledged that it's true . . .I am Elphaba. I relate to her.

We won't talk about how I was awkward, and gangly, and funny-looking, and different. We won't talk about how few friends I had and we won't talk about how much I was teased and picked on . . .you know who you are . . .We won't talk about how fiercely I hold onto my beliefs, even when it gets me in trouble. I promised not to talk about highly charged political or religious topics, remember?

I will share how fiercely I care for animals, and yes, they do talk. . . just not everyone can understand them. I am primarily a dog person, but I don't limit myself. I've learned so much from so many animals over the years. I fed a rescued manatee. I was hugged by a sea lion. I've bottle fed a baby bear. Each one of them has left an indelible image in my heart. But, I want to tell you what I've learned from the animals who have shared with me.

Today is Part 1--the animals of my childhood. I grew up with a lot of family pets, but these are the ones who reached into my heart and never left.

Barney was my first dog I knew. I know he was a cocker spaniel, but in my head, he's a 100-pound golden retriever. I think he was in my family even before I was. I lived in a small town and our dogs ran around off-leash and outside the fence. I still remember searching for him one morning and finding him lying in the dew covered grass. He was old and must have had a stroke. I had never lifted anything so heavy, but I carried him to the porch and stayed with him for what seemed like forever as he took his last breaths. He taught me about love and loss. He was the first time I knew about death.

White Boots was MY first dog. He adopted me one day. He refused to come into the house, but he walked me to and from school. He defended me (and Barney) and almost lost his life to the not-so-nice dog down the street who got out of his fence.  He was a "spitz" . . .white and fluffy, but brown spots. His little legs looked like white boots, so that's what I named him. In my head, he was huge!!! I think he was my heart dog. When I ran away from home with a nothing but a Hostess ding-dong in my pocket and decided the snow was too deep, he stayed with me when I hid in the garage. We had to give him away less than a year after he found me. I'm not sure I've ever gotten over it and he is why I love the American Eskimo breed so much. He taught me that you choose the ones you love and fight for them.

Winnie was our shetland pony. She belonged first to my older brother, then my sister, then me. She was having a foal and it wasn't going well. I never ran so fast in my life the day I ran from the barn to the house screaming to call the vet to help. He couldn't. Her foal was too big and she was too old. The lesson was painful. She was too old and the sire was too big. She taught me that life isn't always easy or fair, and it can be messy.

Togo was Tina's puppy. Tina was my brother's Shih Tzu/Poodle mix. No one wanted Togo, the runt. I used to sneak her into the house to sleep with me at night. Well . . .both of them. They were supposed to sleep outside in the hay under the porch. But, to me it was cold and dark and scary. She taught me that sometimes you take risks for what you believe in. And she taught me that dogs are family and need to live indoors with their pack.

Pat, the Fat Cat, also adopted me. He was an orange tabby that sat on my lap one summer while I read the entire Black Stallion series on the porch. He purred and never left my side. I don't know where he came from, he just appeared and didn't leave. That summer, I think the books and Pat were my only friends. He taught me that it's OK to be comfortable, and happy, alone . . .I am in Introvert, but more on that another day.

I only had D-O-G for a few weeks. This cold little puppy "followed" me home in the warm comfort of my coat on a wintry day. He was MINE, but I was leaving home soon, and knew I couldn't keep him. I pretended I knew he had to find another home, but I didn't really want to believe it. That's why I didn't give him a "name." He taught me how important it is to be honest with yourself. The pain of giving him up is something I haven't ever quite gotten over. If I had been honest with myself about how much I loved him, it might have fought for him. Or if I had really believed that we couldn't keep him, giving him up might not have hurt as much. I think that it's because of him that I foster. I don't want to see another cold, wet, hungry dog on the street. I think that because of him, I take in strays and network to get them adopted or into rescue . . .regardless of the breed.

This is the end of Part 1 . . .In Part 2, I'll share the lessons of the animals I've known as an adult.