"Blog time, Mum!" I said, like the well trained Wuffle I am. It's Sunday evening, so we need to do our blog post and help try and raise more money for those needy Wuffles.
"Not today, Wuffle," said Mum.
I wasn't quite sure what to make of this.
Mum said she hasn't done a huge amount this week, but the true God of runners, Strava, says she's run 34 miles, so I think Mum is talking what she would call "bullshit".
I think Mum just means she hasn't done good runs, because she's been ill for almost all the week. The 20 mile race last Sunday was the start of a few days of feeling properly unwell, and Mum has battled through some runs. On Wednesday she got very upset at not being able to run 5k without one stop to be sick and another to use the facilities at the cricket club. Mum said she did lots of crying on her friends afterwards at being so hurty, but then she felt better because she has friends to cry on and me to come home to. Mum is a big old soppy sod.
Yesterday she felt better. "I'm going to parkrun, Wuffle," she said, "and I think I feel up to a leg stretch." Mum came home looking happy. "Did you run very fast Mum?" I wuffed. "Not really, Wuffle, but then I realised my slow is better than lots of people's fast and decided to be grateful for the feeling of stretching my legs out."
"What flavours of poo did you bring me, Mum?" I wuffed. "None, you daft hound, it's the local park, and it's all paths."
I drooped my ears and looked sad. Mum needs to find somewhere better to run.
And then she did. On Friday Mum clocked the weekend weather forecast and looked at her plan to run 12 miles today. Then she had the chance to get a number for a very nice race round Carsington Water this weekend. Mum ummed and ahhhed. She didn't want to race, but it looked beautiful, so she took the number and promised herself she'd just trot. Mum has 22 miles to run on Tuesday, so she needs her legs to work. Mum actually trotted. She came home delightfully smelly, a bit of poo on the shoes, lots of mud, sweat after the nice day, and very, very happy. Sniff sniff, lick lick, then I realised. "Mum, you have been unfaithful, you have been consorting with other gingers!" I wuffed.
Mum looked quite guilty.
It turns out that Mum saw a beautiful bouncy ginger bundle of joy and it wasn't me. It was littler than me, but Mum assures me only almost as beautiful, and when she trotted past she couldn't resist showing off her vest to the pupster's Mum and Dad, just briefly. Then she saw a big ginger, and shouted a big hello to that too, and gave it a little stroke on the way past while showing off her vest to the big ginger's Mum and Dad. I woofed indignantly. "Unfaithful, Mum, I haven't been off consorting with other Mums, but you have been unfaithful!" Mum pointed out how easily I was swayed by the lovely Rebecca who visited our house with great treats and tubes of deliciousness and I pretended not to hear.
Mum said the bigger ginger's Dad had come up to Mum and given her a tenner after the race, Mum assumed this was for charity and that he wasn't expecting her to remove any clothing and just said thanks. I wasn't sure what she meant by that. The little Ginger, Mum? What about that one. Mum said something back about that but I couldn't really hear because I had my head down the front of her sports bra licking the delicious salt off. I'm not meant to, but sometimes when Mum's tired I sneak in there. With love.
Mum said it was a good day, she had one of the most beautiful runs she'd ever had, she saw her friend finish a spectacular run in a really good time, and she got a tenner for needy Vizslas. Mum is braced for her 22 mile run in 2 days. It's going to be a glorious day so she is planning her route with that in mind.
Mum is working fabulously hard, and hopes that we can continue to raise money and awareness for this fantastic charity. If you haven't donated and you can, please do click the button at the top of the page and donate whatever amount you can. If nothing else, it may stop Mum going out selling her body to anything ginger around whatever lake she happens to be running at.
Thanks for reading, we're getting more runnery as the training goes on, Mum has promised I get to write next week's blog from my point of view and no boring details. I will hold her to that.
"Not today, Wuffle," said Mum.
I wasn't quite sure what to make of this.
Mum said she hasn't done a huge amount this week, but the true God of runners, Strava, says she's run 34 miles, so I think Mum is talking what she would call "bullshit".
I think Mum just means she hasn't done good runs, because she's been ill for almost all the week. The 20 mile race last Sunday was the start of a few days of feeling properly unwell, and Mum has battled through some runs. On Wednesday she got very upset at not being able to run 5k without one stop to be sick and another to use the facilities at the cricket club. Mum said she did lots of crying on her friends afterwards at being so hurty, but then she felt better because she has friends to cry on and me to come home to. Mum is a big old soppy sod.
Yesterday she felt better. "I'm going to parkrun, Wuffle," she said, "and I think I feel up to a leg stretch." Mum came home looking happy. "Did you run very fast Mum?" I wuffed. "Not really, Wuffle, but then I realised my slow is better than lots of people's fast and decided to be grateful for the feeling of stretching my legs out."
"What flavours of poo did you bring me, Mum?" I wuffed. "None, you daft hound, it's the local park, and it's all paths."
I drooped my ears and looked sad. Mum needs to find somewhere better to run.
And then she did. On Friday Mum clocked the weekend weather forecast and looked at her plan to run 12 miles today. Then she had the chance to get a number for a very nice race round Carsington Water this weekend. Mum ummed and ahhhed. She didn't want to race, but it looked beautiful, so she took the number and promised herself she'd just trot. Mum has 22 miles to run on Tuesday, so she needs her legs to work. Mum actually trotted. She came home delightfully smelly, a bit of poo on the shoes, lots of mud, sweat after the nice day, and very, very happy. Sniff sniff, lick lick, then I realised. "Mum, you have been unfaithful, you have been consorting with other gingers!" I wuffed.
Mum looked quite guilty.
It turns out that Mum saw a beautiful bouncy ginger bundle of joy and it wasn't me. It was littler than me, but Mum assures me only almost as beautiful, and when she trotted past she couldn't resist showing off her vest to the pupster's Mum and Dad, just briefly. Then she saw a big ginger, and shouted a big hello to that too, and gave it a little stroke on the way past while showing off her vest to the big ginger's Mum and Dad. I woofed indignantly. "Unfaithful, Mum, I haven't been off consorting with other Mums, but you have been unfaithful!" Mum pointed out how easily I was swayed by the lovely Rebecca who visited our house with great treats and tubes of deliciousness and I pretended not to hear.
Mum said the bigger ginger's Dad had come up to Mum and given her a tenner after the race, Mum assumed this was for charity and that he wasn't expecting her to remove any clothing and just said thanks. I wasn't sure what she meant by that. The little Ginger, Mum? What about that one. Mum said something back about that but I couldn't really hear because I had my head down the front of her sports bra licking the delicious salt off. I'm not meant to, but sometimes when Mum's tired I sneak in there. With love.
Mum said it was a good day, she had one of the most beautiful runs she'd ever had, she saw her friend finish a spectacular run in a really good time, and she got a tenner for needy Vizslas. Mum is braced for her 22 mile run in 2 days. It's going to be a glorious day so she is planning her route with that in mind.
Mum is working fabulously hard, and hopes that we can continue to raise money and awareness for this fantastic charity. If you haven't donated and you can, please do click the button at the top of the page and donate whatever amount you can. If nothing else, it may stop Mum going out selling her body to anything ginger around whatever lake she happens to be running at.
Thanks for reading, we're getting more runnery as the training goes on, Mum has promised I get to write next week's blog from my point of view and no boring details. I will hold her to that.
Comments
Post a Comment