Cincinnati Rat Race

Noah wanted to enter the Cincinnati Rat Race this year as his first 5k where he actually raced.  I decided on race day to enter with him.  It was warm but rainy for the 5:30 start and pretty much rained the whole time!

Noah finished 2nd in his age group with a 6:46/mile pace and I finished 12th in my age group with a 9:05/mile pace.  Those were personal bests for both of us.

Pre-race

Less than .2 miles to go for Noah

Less than .2 miles to go for me

At the end I was so tired I could not pose for a picture.  I definitely started off way too fast.  I guess that’s what happens where there aren’t any pace groups and the distances are not clearly marked!

All in all we had a great time.  And we’re both looking forward to next weekend and the Cap City 1/2 marathon for Noah and the Commit to be Fit 5k for me.  I’m going to try to replicate those results and see if I can!

And life takes a left turn

I promised myself that I would blog more while I was on break and then…life happened.

Wednesday we went to the zoo.  Loads of fun!

Thursday I met my mom for lunch in Springfield and then my dad called before we had a chance to eat and told us that my uncle had passed away.  So mom and I drove to Dayton to help Dad with the arrangements and paperwork.  When we got there, Steve had wanted his body donated to Wright State for research.  Turn out, teaching hospitals review your information after you pass, not before.  Steve had Hep C at some point in his life so Wright State wouldn’t take his body.  Which left us all scrambling because Steve didn’t have insurance or any money to pay for a funeral.  So I helped Mom and Dad with arrangement etc.  I ended up driving home to help take care of the details.  Steve had three labs, a black, a yellow, and a chocolate.  The black one is the one that bit my dad while we were moving Steve down.  He also has a huge tumor on his side.  The chocolate one is a young female but she doesn’t like anyone.  We thought the yellow one would be fine.  So in order to help Mom and Dad, I ended up taking the yellow male home with me that night.

And that’s where life got crazy.  Took the yellow dog, T, home Thursday.  Steve didn’t take the dogs to the vet.  T had none of his shots.  We put him in the garage until I could take him to the vet Friday.  He DESTROYED the garage door into the house.  DESTROYED.  Kept us up all night with his howling.  So Friday morning, after talking to my mom, we decided to put him in the back yard with the fence until we could get him to the vet.  I put Satchel’s collar on him so that if something did happen, we would be able to get him back.  Yeah.  Good idea.  Within 15 minutes of putting him outside, he jumped the fence.  A ten year old arthritic dog jumped the fence.  I spent all day Friday looking for him.  Someone returned him around 5:30 Friday night.  I decided to allow him in the house because we couldn’t risk losing him again.  Saturday morning, bright and early, I took him to the vet.  He went nuts.  He tried to bite the vet tech when she tried to trim his toe nails so we had to muzzle him.  The vet was not my normal vet and I could tell she was clearly scared of him.  She gave him his shots and antibiotic and some ear meds and we went out to pay.  As I’m writing the check, a stranger comes up behind me and reaches with his palm down toward T.  T went nuts.  Bit the guy.  The guy needed 12 stitches in his hand.  12 stitches.  I tried to give the guy our information, but he didn’t take it.  12 stitches.  I still can’t get over that.  Sunday or Monday, I can’t remember which, the man that T bit called me and told me we had to make a claim on our home owners insurance for his medical bills.  Which scared the sh*t out of me, because we could lose our home owners insurance and be non-renewed because of it.  So finally the vet gets in contact with me.  T had to be on 10 day quarantine because of his lack of shots.  But the vet decided that since T bit the vet tech and they didn’t tell me about it, that they were liable for the bite so they were going to pay the man’s medical bills.  Whew.  I didn’t know that T actually bit the vet tech, I was right there and I didn’t see it and no one told me.  We decided that we couldn’t keep T at this point.  But guess what?  Lab rescues won’t take him because he’s 10 years old and he has a bite history.  So I put an ad on Craigslist and crossed my fingers.  T started getting more aggressive with our dog and cats.  He took big chunks of fur out of Satchel and pounced at the cats every time he saw them.  He also was massively destructive to our home.  He ate everything that he could get his mouth on including a bag of flour, a plastic cup, a plastic container, a box of girl scout cookies, and the trash can.  This dog pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and climbed on it to get to the trash can sitting on top of the kitchen table.  Seriously.  We tried to crate him, but he just busted out.  He actually bent the crate to get out.

It’s been stressful to say the least.

Tonight a family came and took him home.  I am so thankful that he’s gone and that he has gone to a good home.  The next step was going to be dropping him off at a shelter and pretending that he was a stray.   I had made 20 or more phone calls trying to find him a home and no luck.  He was getting more aggressive with Satchel and that just couldn’t happen.  I’m just glad I didn’t have to take him to a shelter.  I really didn’t want to, but I felt like I had no choice.

After T left tonight, Satchel did a little happy dance.  He raced around the house wagging his tail and jumping around.  He’s just generally a much happier dog.  Much happier.  The cats are finally out of hiding and playing with each other as well as Satchel.  Life is back to normal.  *sigh*

He sure looks cute doesn't he? Looks can be deceiving.

Zoo Day!

Ceese and her two young’uns and I went to the zoo Wednesday.  It was a ton of fun!  I got lots of walking in and the boys seemed to enjoy themselves.  I didn’t get to take as many pictures as I wanted to, I was too busy with the little ones, but here are a couple of my favorites.

on death and guilt

My dad’s brother is dieing.

I call him my dad’s brother, because he’s not my uncle.  He never has been.  I can’t feel much sympathy for him because he’s done this to himself.  He’s had heart problems for what seems like forever, and was told to quit smoking, start drinking things other than Pepsi, and get some exercise.  But he’s done none of that.  And now, finally, years longer than the doctors said he would last, now he’s finally dieing.

When Noah and I got married, we went out to Vegas and we invited all of our immediate family.  We called everyone and told them, we understand if you can’t afford it no biggie, but we wanted to let you know that we’d love for you to be there.  Because this man is my dad’s brother, and because dad made me, we invited him too.  He said, “Oh that’s nice.  I don’t think we can make it.” and then asked to be handed back to my dad.  We had a reception in my hometown for all the family and friends that couldn’t make it out to Vegas with us.  He RSVP’d that he was coming and then didn’t show up.  No phone call, no card, nothing.  Just didn’t show up.  He never once said congratulations to us and since then, about 6 years ago, he hasn’t really ever spoken to Noah.  He doesn’t speak to me, that’s fine, but he should have at least said congratulations and should recognize that Noah comes to family events.  But no.

At Thanksgiving, I went to Cleveland to help my dad move his brother down to Greenville.  It was a mess.  I thought I posted about it, but I guess not.  So here goes.  On the way up there, my dad got into an accident.  He hit a patch of ice and we turned around several times and somehow managed to only hit one car.  So we were delayed for at least an hour dealing with the fallout from that.  When we get there, the house is a freaking mess.  It was like a scene from those “flip this house” type shows where the person who buys the house shows up and has to bring in a dumpster because of all the previous owner’s mess.  And he left most of it.  Just left furniture, clothes, pictures, etc.  Just walked away and locked the house.  The carpet, walls, everything was disgusting.  Absolutely disgusting.  Also, he has three labs.  He’s not able to afford anything except cigarettes and Pepsi and his medications, he can’t even afford gas money to come visit his father, but he has three labs.  And he is unwilling to let any of them go.  One of them is mean, one of them is just weird, and the third one is normal.  So we get the two trucks and one moving van loaded up and I’m driving Dad’s truck home.  Dad says to me, “Which dog do you want to take in the back seat?”  So of course I tell him that I’ll take the normal one.  To which Dad says, “Well I don’t think your cousin can handle the mean one, why don’t you take him?”  Sweet.  Of course.  Stick me with the dog that’s been growling at everybody non-stop since we got there.  Fine.

So we leave.  I’ve got the growly one in the back and we’re doing pretty good.  I just turned the radio up so I couldn’t hear him.  We decide to stop at 36 and 71 for gas and refreshments.  Everybody gets gas, Dad and I head in for something to drink and to use the restroom and Dad’s brother just goes ahead and pulls away.  So I wait for Dad to get back in the UHaul and get going.  Except he doesn’t.  There’s a warning light on about the brakes and a really loud dinging noise.  And of course this is the day after Thanksgiving and Dad’s brother just left us.  Just drove away without making sure that the people who are carrying all his worldly possessions are OK.  And his cell phone is off.  Of course.  Long story short, we had to wait for the repair people to come, we tried to get the growly dog out to let him go to the bathroom and he bit my dad.  Blood flowing, bit my dad.  We waited around for hours and finally, against my better judgment, Dad says “We’re going.  Just don’t let anyone else get behind me because the brake lights don’t work.”   We still had a two-hour drive ahead of us and…we’re going anyway.  Have you ever tried to follow a UHaul without brake lights?  Scary.  But we made it home.

This man, my dad’s brother, is so self-centered.  He doesn’t think about other people.  He’s the golden child in my grandpa’s eyes, even though it’s my dad who stayed in town so that he could take care of my grandparents.  He and my mom made that sacrifice, and it isn’t even appreciated.  My dad’s brother is loud and obnoxious.  When parents have something, he has to go out and get it.  When I joined a club or sport, his step-children were forced to join the same club.  Everything is a competition to him.

Last night my mom called to give me the update on him.  I asked her if it was awful that I didn’t really want any more updates until he passed away.  That is awful, I know it is.  And I feel slightly guilty, but the only reason why I care is my dad.  And the fact that I’m going to have to take time off work.  That’s horrible isn’t it?  I feel guilty because I feel nothing.  I feel like I should care if he passes away, but I don’t.  Not really.