After being thoroughly bouncy last week, Mum has been, well, less bouncy this week.
She says she is tired, not the tired she should be from running lots of miles, just tired. I am making sure to check on her frequently to see how she is doing like a good wuff should. I check in on her at 2:00am, then around 4:30am, then finally around 6:00am I drag her to the sofa by her dressing gown so we can spend some quality snuggle time under my holey blanket. Mum seems to look more tired every time I check on her at the moment, I wonder if I should be keeping a closer eye?
Mum didn't have a long run on the schedule this week, but she did have three runs of around 10 miles. One easy, one with intervals, and one hard. Mum has had a couple of days this week where she's felt better than she has for months, and then a few days this week where she's felt really poorly. While she did the distance, she said only one of those runs went properly well. One was manageable, and the final one was "absolute hell" as she battled through 10 miles in the pouring rain and wind with her insides cramping themselves inside out, and more bush stops than she could count. I have learned that a "bush stop" is something runners say when they really mean having a poo or a wee, and often when they say bush it may actually be just a small leafless twiggy plant, or some slightly taller than average grass.
Mum was determined to finish her final 10 miles of the week, and she did. Mum then realised she had misjudged her distances and was 2 and a half miles from home. She started jogging, slowly, and hoped she wasn't sick again now she was back on busy streets. She jogged for about a mile then decided to stop and walk for a bit when a wonderful thing happened. There was Dad with the two legged pups driving past in the car, windows down, waving and shouting hello to Mum.
"Hello Mummy," shouted the two legged pups, "we've been to the shops!"
She says she is tired, not the tired she should be from running lots of miles, just tired. I am making sure to check on her frequently to see how she is doing like a good wuff should. I check in on her at 2:00am, then around 4:30am, then finally around 6:00am I drag her to the sofa by her dressing gown so we can spend some quality snuggle time under my holey blanket. Mum seems to look more tired every time I check on her at the moment, I wonder if I should be keeping a closer eye?
Mum didn't have a long run on the schedule this week, but she did have three runs of around 10 miles. One easy, one with intervals, and one hard. Mum has had a couple of days this week where she's felt better than she has for months, and then a few days this week where she's felt really poorly. While she did the distance, she said only one of those runs went properly well. One was manageable, and the final one was "absolute hell" as she battled through 10 miles in the pouring rain and wind with her insides cramping themselves inside out, and more bush stops than she could count. I have learned that a "bush stop" is something runners say when they really mean having a poo or a wee, and often when they say bush it may actually be just a small leafless twiggy plant, or some slightly taller than average grass.
Mum was determined to finish her final 10 miles of the week, and she did. Mum then realised she had misjudged her distances and was 2 and a half miles from home. She started jogging, slowly, and hoped she wasn't sick again now she was back on busy streets. She jogged for about a mile then decided to stop and walk for a bit when a wonderful thing happened. There was Dad with the two legged pups driving past in the car, windows down, waving and shouting hello to Mum.
"Hello Mummy," shouted the two legged pups, "we've been to the shops!"
"Hello Mummy, look it's Mummy, hello Mummy", shouted Dad out the window, with a big smile and a wave.
"Thank fuck" thought Mum, still walking, looking like hell and bent over. "Helloooo!" shouted Mum.
Daddy carried on driving.
"What the fuck?" said Mummy under her breath, then "pick me up, pick me up, PICK ME UP!" shouted Mum out loud while waving her arms frantically in the air and trying to find a bit of energy to chase the car down the street.
The babies waved back some more, "we have hot cross buns, Mummy," they shouted as the drove on down the road. Daddy beeped his horn.
"PICK ME UUUUPPPPP!" screamed Mum using her special volume level normally reserved for yelling "come back right now" when the two legged pups have ridden their bikes off in different directions while I chase a magpie in a third.
Dad pulled the car over and Mum got in. Mum said this was good because divorce would be expensive and inconvenient. Dad apparently hadn't noticed Mum was walking hunched over, or indeed heard her scream, but the two legged pups had. Mum collapsed into the heated seat in the car and tried not to sob with relief.
Dad delivered Mum back home to me where I could warm her with my special smells and make sure she was all OK. We staged a snuggle in on my pup throne and Mum said had never been so happy to be home, snuggled, warm and with me. I licked Mum's face and carried on licking her even after she showered off the delicious smells.
Mum hopes that she will feel better next week for her first 20 mile run of the training. Either way, Mum said, she will do it; with only 8 weeks to go until the marathon, she needs to.
Dad pulled the car over and Mum got in. Mum said this was good because divorce would be expensive and inconvenient. Dad apparently hadn't noticed Mum was walking hunched over, or indeed heard her scream, but the two legged pups had. Mum collapsed into the heated seat in the car and tried not to sob with relief.
Dad delivered Mum back home to me where I could warm her with my special smells and make sure she was all OK. We staged a snuggle in on my pup throne and Mum said had never been so happy to be home, snuggled, warm and with me. I licked Mum's face and carried on licking her even after she showered off the delicious smells.
Mum hopes that she will feel better next week for her first 20 mile run of the training. Either way, Mum said, she will do it; with only 8 weeks to go until the marathon, she needs to.
If you do feel able to support Mum and her efforts to raise funds for Vizsla Rescue, a fabulous charity doing incredible work to keep all gingers well cared for in safe and loving homes where they get all they need to be happy, then please do. The charity have had a huge number of animals through in January and have been working very hard to find homes for all of them and to look after them in the meantime. Every bit of support means a huge amount and it all helps!
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