Sunday Morning Run


Slightly before falling asleep:

Tomorrow when I wake up, I am going to just jump right out of bed and head out for a run. I’ve got running clothes sitting on the dining room table that I didn’t put away after washing them 3 days ago, so I won’t even have to wake up Jay or the kid fumbling around in the dark for compression shorts. I’ll be back before the kid wakes up and will still have time to make French toast and sausage for Father’s Day. I am so awesome.



I hate 4AM Bird. If only I knew where that fucking bird lived when he wasn’t chirping at our window at O’dark thirty, I would lay a damned mouse trap right in his nest. I really wouldn’t because that would be mean, but OH DEAR GOD SHUT YOUR FACE-HOLE


Well, I am awake now. Guess I should get my ass out of bed and get to running.


Um… Am I out of bed, yet. Nope. That’s a pillow your head is on. You are still in bed. Get UP!!


OK. OK. I’m up. But even though I know exactly where my clothes are, my Armpocket is AWOL and my handheld hydration dealie must have run off with it. Maybe I should go back to bed.


After chowing down on a chocolate Honey Stinger Waffle, I finally started my run.


Who the hell keeps putting hills in front of me and why do they NEVER coincide with my walk intervals.


2.73 Miles done. I can turn around now, take the shorter way back, and still make 5 miles! Sweet.


OK, I’ve made it over 4 miles. Take shorter way or the slightly longer way home? hmmmm. I’ll take the longer way.


Why is my mom’s friend walking toward me and yelling and waving her arms? She must be encouraging me to keep  going! Yay! I’m gonna keep going and get to 6 miles!


I take my earbuds out because my mom’s friend (I’ll call her P) is still yelling and waving more emphatically. She had been out for a morning walk and had been on her way home BUT she had just turned back around away from her house because there was a BEAR running back and forth across the main road- the main road for both of us to use to get home.

Eastern Black Bear

Not my particular bear. This one is a pic from the Catskill Mountaineer.

I turn around and walk with her back to where the shorter route to my house was. Safety in numbers and all that jazz.


“HOLY CRAP THERE GOES THE BEAR, AGAIN!!!!” We see that bear darting across the street 2 houses in front of us, away from the direction of P’s house but towards mine! FUUUUUCK.

A (very) rough sketch of the neighborhood. Behold my MS Paint skills!

A (very) rough sketch of the neighborhood. Behold my MS Paint skills!

We turn back around and started going the longer way again that would bring us directly to P’s. We encounter a cop in search of the bear that everyone is flipping shit over and we point him in Yogi’s direction hurried away.


We get to P’s house where she offers to drive me the few more blocks to my house, claiming that my mother would kill her if I got mauled. I decline because:

a) I’m super bad-ass,

b) I’m an idiot, or

c) I was at 4.8 miles and I would kick myself if I didn’t make it to 5 just because of a silly old bear?

(It’s multiple choice, but there may be more than one answer.)

I’m thinking that the bear must be running towards the woods and not staying in the neighborhood to meet me for a snack.


I very cautiously walk up the last incline of the run. The music has been killed and I only keep one earbud in so I can hear my running app, but also an approaching bear.

My dogs are outside in the dog run!! Shit!!

Called Jay to tell him to bring the boys inside because a friggin’ bear is out and about. No answer. Shit. Enter all absurd thoughts of my dachshund taking on a bear in defense of his big brother, the mastiff.


As soon as the road flattens out I RUN as fast as I can after having already put in 5 miles at a pretty decent pace for me.  I hacked 30 seconds off my pace for the last 0.2 mile in an attempt to get home to the mutts faster.


Home. Brought dogs safely inside, while hoping that the mastiff, but more likely- the doxie, would defend me should the bear show up in the yard.

Phew. Safe.


Make soggy French toast. Forget to make sausage. I’m pretty sure it’s the bear’s fault.


Consult with a dude at the gym about re-opening my membership so I can run on a treadmill when animals with large claws and/or teeth have been spotted in the area.



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