Punky soaking in the sunPunky is ready for some baseball!
Our younger dog, Punky, a 3 year old golden retriever, was lucky enough to attend her very first baseball game yesterday! Our town hosts a minor league baseball team, and they allow dogs at the games once a week or so. Normally dog days are on a weekday, but this time it was a Saturday and we were able to snag some free tickets. Hurray! It was still a tad chilly for the game, because Michigan is really confused about the calendar, but we dressed for it and had no issues with it. We weren’t sure how she would do at this event, because at home she is scared of almost literally everything that moves or has the potential to move. However, she did great. She loved meeting other dogs, but her favorite part was laying at our feet in the stands. It was a great day for baseball, and a great day spent with family and friends, even the furry ones. Hands down would do it again.
Long and crazy day. The original plan was for the whole family to go pick out and cut down this year’s Christmas tree. And that was going to be it, a nice relaxing day.
We ended up doing a lot more than that. To start off, a friend texted first thing in the morning inviting me to join her at the gym. I said absolutely yes, since I had missed the day before and had been itching to go back. I got reacquainted with the elliptical – I hadn’t used one in over 15 years, when I was pregnant with my daughter – and learned very quickly that the elliptical is an efficient way to work out the upper leg muscles. OOF! I’ll definitely be coming back to those. Then, with jell-o legs we went over to the 30 minute circuit and got full body strength workouts in. I was so exhausted after but it felt really good to be moving my body again. And, it’s a nice change-up from running, which can get dull at times. We finished at the gym with chair massages and then went for coffee to do some real catching up. It was a fine morning.
L to R: Mike, Luke, Natalie (leading our golden retriever, Punky) walking toward the trees to search for the one we’ll take home.
Once home and showered, I went with Mike and the kids – and Punky! – to pick out our Christmas tree. That was a blast, as always. It’s a nice tradition we’ve kept through the years and I will miss it when it’s gone.
Natalie kneeling in the snow with our golden retriever, Punky.
So with the tree procured and placed in the living room, we decided to head back out for a special mission. My daughter’s cell phone was broken and needing replacement. Since we all have had our phones awhile and are outside of the contract, we figured now we be a good time to shop for new cell phones/plans. So we spent the entire afternoon driving to various service centers, price shopping. We finally settled on one, and tried to get it all set up, but ran into a snafu so we’re hoping to get that completed in the next day or so. Oddly enough, none of us got frustrated with each other during this whole ordeal. We actually just enjoyed hanging out together. I was extremely grateful for that. And!! For a good portion of the outing my daughter drove! She just recently got her learner’s permit so she’s learning. She kind of hates it, it really stresses her out, but I think she’s doing a great job and will hate it less as she gets more practice.
All in all, it was a pretty incredible day and I’m so thankful for my friends and family, and thankful to have a warm bed to come home to. I’ll be sleeping well tonight.
Woah, what?! We are almost there folks. And while I got a little off track with my long runs, I have been diligent this week about getting some miles on these legs. A 4 mile run here, a quick 2 mile run there, and ending the week with a 6 mile “long run”. That’s the taper. We don’t want to wear ourselves out before race day. These last two weeks are for maintaining fitness but giving ourselves the rest we need so we save some gas in the tank for race day. Do you like my metaphors and third person language? Who is this “we” you speak of, Mel? I don’t know, it’s just how we talk sometimes.
For the record, I started this post a few days ago, and did not end up running a 6 mile long run. Instead, I ran 4 miles with my son, which was a pleasant change! He is obviously much faster than I am, but he was gracious enough to stay with me. However, when we got to the third mile he challenged me to continue running until we arrived home – no more walk breaks! I tried, I really tried, but y’all it was so hard. I was ready to give up and walk but he kept smiling at me and telling me I could do it (he would make a great personal trainer), and with that extra encouragement I did complete the entirety of the 3rd mile without walking. I knew I was gassed because my shoulders were cramping. I’m not sure why that happens, but I suspect it has something to do with oxygen and electrolytes (I’ll have to look that up later). I walked the first chunk of that 4th mile until the cramping subsided and then finished strong. And then collapsed on the front lawn, knowing he was right there to help me up. Sorry, there are no photos of that. So it wasn’t the 6 miles that I had planned, but because I still had to push myself a little extra, I think it was a fine compromise.
While there are no photos of me passed out on the front lawn, I do have pictures from one of the earlier runs. The one on the left here is of me and the dogs on the deck, and the other one is of me cooling off with an ice cream bar (below).
I’m feeling ready for this race. I still don’t have any time goals, my hope is just that I can run steady for the entire 13.1 miles, and finish with my legs still operating. There will be pain, there will be soreness, but if I can keep a steady but not too fast speed, I should be able to keep my legs functioning to the end.
The weather is finally cooling down here in Michigan and my body is very happy about that. I have become an extreme sweat-er (thank you perimenopause), so that makes running pretty uncomfortable sometimes. And up north where the race is being held, I expect the leaves are changing colors so it should be beautiful to see. This particular race is definitely all about the scenery. And – knock on wood – the weather forecast looks perfect for race day! Wish me luck folks! I’ll see you on the other side…
Okay, here’s the recap of week 8 (I feel like I’m really slipping on getting these out in time):
Sunday – Rest and stuff
Monday – Some medical stuff, helping prep kids for school starting on Wednesday. Basically all the family management tasks that wear me out. But it was a good day. Lots of steps (Also there may have been a donut or two).
Tuesday – 5 mile run, all the hills in my neighborhood and the one north of us. I need to kick up the hill training cuz these hills are getting too easy for me. Might mean a trip out of the neighborhood!
Wednesday – school started! I had the whole house to myself all morning (it was a half day). I did a 35 minute Fitbod workout: quadriceps, hamstrings, glutes, and abs.
Thursday – I ran 2 beautiful, glorious miles. It was the first full day with kids at school, so I’m sure that was a factor in my enjoyment lol I’m pictured here with my two doggies. They love to greet me after every run and love running around in the yard while I stretch and rehydrate.
Friday – I ran 11 miles! I decided to move the long run from Saturday because the weather looked better (cooler) and also I had some afternoon plans on Saturday I didn’t want to be feeling half-dead for. This second try at a selfie near the “Trail Ends” sign was successful. The trail ends, but the low traffic side street begins, so I continued on.
Until that road ended, and you’ll see another selfie here of me being slightly disappointed I had to turn around sooner than I anticipated. It was fine, I still got my miles in. And I still might find a way to go farther. Hubby says we can take a look at it from Google Earth and see how it might connect because he’s pretty sure there’s more trail to run.
Can I just say though, how *aware* I am of the muscles in my legs when I’m running? Wednesday’s workout was short but effective, and I was feeling the burn, for sure. But also, I could really sense that those muscles are getting stronger and it really is helping add more ease to my running. On my long run this week I chose to play my 180 beat playlist so it would keep me on a steady pace while I focused on my form and breathing. I’m still amazed at what the human body is capable of. Focused breathing really helped with my stamina, especially with those later miles on the long run. It’s nice to have these good runs to remind me on the harder days that it’s still worth it.
Saturday & Sunday – These two days I just really focused on resting and visiting with friends. It was a wonderful respite for both my body and soul. I was ready to hit the ground running come Monday, and you’ll hear all about that in next week’s update! Have a great day y’all! Shalom…
I had an odd experience this morning and used it for today’s writing practice. Enjoy!
The bedroom is dark. I’ve just removed my eye mask and stood up from my bed. I slowly creep my way to the bathroom, like a drunken sailor, and look at my watch. It’s 4:24. I turn on the closet light and sit on the toilet. I don’t turn on the bathroom light because it’s too much light and I don’t want to leave my sleepy state. I fear falling asleep on the toilet. I put my face in my hands as I relieve myself. I’m still so tired, but the bladder wins every time. Once I’m done, I wash my hands and slowly walk back to my side of the bed. I always love this part. You’re chilled when the air in the room hits your bare skin, until you climb back under the covers, still warm from when you left them minutes ago. Except when you reach to pull up the covers, instead of finding the fuzzy fleece, your hand touches a warm mass of fur. You are confused. You feel around the fur, it’s long, and it’s slowly moving up and down. It’s breathing. It’s your golden retriever, who in your brief absence from the bed has taken your place. You quickly shoo her out of the bed, where she knows she is not allowed. When you climb into bed you find your pillow is not laid horizontally as you left it, but vertically. Like a savage. And now you are just fuming with rage at the audacity someone had to alter your sacred sleeping space. Who knows? Maybe it was me. Maybe it was the dog. It doesn’t matter, I’m mad at the world and my heart is racing. I’m wrapped in this warm fleece blanket again, sans dog, and I need to find a way to get back to sleep, because the sun is still hours away from rising. And it’s Saturday, for Pete’s sake. Slow breathing, think of other things. It’s fine. Your body is comfortable again, in a relaxed state. Let your mind join in. Sleep will come.
That was fun to write, but I wasn’t sure how to end it. I’ve never been great at landing the plane. Practice, Mel. Practice. This is fun!
I had originally started this post around the new year, and forgot about it. As we are coming up on the anniversary of the events, I thought it would be a good time to finish the story. Also, a disclaimer: the photos included here lack captions because 1) I couldn’t figure out how to add captions and 2) with my vision I’m not even entirely sure what’s in each photo. So I apologize to all the other visually impaired readers out there.
In April of 2021, my husband Mike and I were looking forward to celebrating our 22nd wedding anniversary with a weekend trip up north (Up North being a big deal in Michigan). We had planned to leave Friday afternoon, while the kids were still at school, and Grandma was to come and stay the weekend with them.
On this fateful Friday morning, I was frantically awoken by my husband. When I opened my eyes I could sense there was an emergency but could not tell what. I hurried to put on my cochlear implants, and when I did Mike handed me a stack of towels and said “You work up here, I’ll work downstairs.” A few short steps from my bed, and it did not take me long to realize that the floor was soaked. Our bathroom sink had been left running when I got up several hours earlier to use the toilet. I can’t tell you how many times in the past I had gotten up in the middle of the night to go the bathroom and left the water running. Only every other time it had happened, my husband was awake enough to hear it and made sure I got back up to turn the water off. This time that did not happen. The water had been running for several hours, and because it was a slow drain, the water quickly overflowed. The water had spread from our master bathroom, to the carpeted hallway, and through the floor to the main floor ceiling to the kitchen. And then through the kitchen floor to the basement ceiling.
I was devastated. Stunned. In disbelief. In a whirlwind of activity we managed to send the kids off to school and get everything cleaned up the best we could. It was still very early in the morning so while we waited to talk with an insurance agent, I sat on my husband’s lap and sobbed into his shoulder. Not only was our trip cancelled, but I couldn’t believe the mass destruction I had caused to our home. Mike had nothing but compassion for me. He had been angry all of 3 seconds when he discovered the damage, but from every moment thereafter he was in problem solver mode. He kept saying this could be a blessing in disguise. I had always hated the look of our kitchen, and now we would get to pick out our own cabinets, countertops, floors, etc. It could be fun!
I wouldn’t say the process was fun, however it was nice to discover I did have opinions when it came to the kitchen and bathroom designs. And there were a million little decisions we had to make together, so it gave us some good practice as a married couple. After 22 years of marriage it was nice to find we could work out our differences and make compromises without killing each other.
When the restoration crew came to assess the damage they brought very loud drying machines and put them on all 3 floors of the house. They had to cut holes in the kitchen and basement ceilings to get them dried. They ripped out our soaked kitchen and bathroom cabinets, and with them the countertops they were holding up. They put up plastic sheets as barriers because they had detected mold in the kitchen. It was a mess.
We got to work right away at choosing replacement materials, but there were supply chain issues so it did take longer than we had hoped for. We still had use of our fridge and stove, but no place to prepare food or wash dishes, so we lived on fast food for the next several months.
Oh, did I mention that I had already started training for my first marathon at this point? Yep. Marathon training on a fast food diet? Not ideal. But our family got really good at knowing how to get the best deals at all the fast food restaurants. Biggie Bags at Wendy’s, Five Dollar Boxes at Taco Bell, all the value menus. It was fun! (She said, facetiously.)
Anyway, all was restored by early September, just days before my marathon, and it was beautiful. I was so happy to have my kitchen back, I swore to never talk about hating to cook every again. I am grateful for the privilege of having a kitchen to prepare food in.
We put a motion sensor faucet in our bathroom, so that this would never happen again. It took a little getting used to, but it’s been effective; I’ve never left my bathroom faucet running because I’m not able to. I seem to remember one of our kids asking around this time, “why don’t we put one in the kids bathroom too?” And the reply being that there was no reason to because Mom never uses that bathroom. Well, never say never…
Fast forward to April of 2022, almost a year following the major flood. I was blasting my music through my cochlear implants, drowning out all other sounds, and doing a bunch of power cleaning. I noticed the dryer was quite dusty, so I grabbed a washcloth and ran to the nearest bathroom (the kids bathroom, which is the other full upstairs bathroom) to wet the cloth and wipe down the dryer. I continued my work, flittering around the house. My daughter had come home from school, used the small bathroom just off the kitchen, and when she walked out of the bathroom noticed a problem. She hurried upstairs to let me know, “Mom, the kitchen ceiling is leaking!”
I had NO idea what could be causing that but I zoomed into crisis mode. I handed her a bunch of towels and told her to grab a large bowl from the kitchen cabinets, put it under the leak, and start drying the floor (our practically brand new kitchen floor!). I was frantic, not knowing what to do, so I called my husband. He calmly walked me through turning the water off in the house and then gave suggestions for where to check for the source of the leak. I walked upstairs and opened the door to the kid’s bathroom (why was the door shut anyway?) and walked into a cloud of steam and water dripping off the countertop. It was then that I realized I had left the water running after wetting the cloth to clean the dryer. I could not believe it. I had done it again. Thankfully my daughter had caught it in time and the damage was not as severe, but the damage to my ego was just as devastating the second time around, if not more so. I had come to learn after the first flood that it was actually quite common, for people to leave faucets running and flood their homes. I never learned the statistics for two-time offenders but I was sure it was more rare.
The ironic thing is, we had planned a trip for our 23rd anniversary, since we didn’t get to take it the year before. And when I asked Grandma to come stay with the kids, I told her – jokingly – I wouldn’t flood the house this time. And then, of course, I did. Thankfully it happened a few weeks before the trip so we were still able to go. And boy, did we need that trip. It was just for the weekend, but it gave us time to process and reflect on all that had happened, and to be thankful that we were still crazy in love even after all the difficult things we’ve been through. Maybe even more so because of the difficult things we’ve endured. And when we look at those challenges we’ve had to face over the decades, dealing with a flood or two is no big deal.
Now I’m just praying that I make it through this year without causing another major disaster. And I’m extremely grateful that my family loves me despite my propensity for calamity and can laugh about it all now!
I’ve been mulling this story over in my head for awhile now, trying to figure out how to tell it in a way that conveys the hilarity that I felt when it happened. Here we go!
My friend Tara was coming to visit from out of state. She, her husband Scott and their two sons had moved out of Michigan years ago and it had been some time since I had seen them. They were in town for a few days and she wanted to stop by and catch up. I was so excited for this visit, and for them to meet our new dog, Punky. I was letting the dogs play outside while I waited for my friends’ arrival. I like to do this when company comes over because the dogs can be a bit much and the exercise helps to calm them down (or so I like to believe). Tara and her family arrived, and I was so excited to see them! Scott was dropping Tara off for a few hours while he took the boys to the zoo, but they wanted to come in and say hello first.
Scott and Tara are dog people, so I asked if they wanted to meet our new golden retriever Punky, and of course they did. I let the rambunctious dogs inside and they did their dog greeting thing, wagged their tails, barked obnoxiously, etc. And then this conversation happened…
Scott to me: “It’s a bird.”
I have to stop right here and remind you that I am still half blind and deaf. The cochlear implants are great, but I need to be paying attention in order to hear and understand when people are talking to me. Also, if there are other loud noises happening (e.g. dogs barking), they are pretty useless. In other words, I miss out on a LOT of input. My guess is that Scott had said some things that I did not hear, and those things would have given me the necessary context to understand this bird business. Instead, I was starting from scratch with his statement. Now let’s continue…
Me looking blankly at Scott: “Huh? What’s that?”
Scott: “It’s a bird.”
Me: “What’s a bird?”
Scott: “It’s a bird. It looks like she brought in a bird.”
As understanding crept in and my heart started racing, I frantically scanned the room, looking for the “she” that Scott was referring to and that’s when I saw it. A happy, proud as can be Punky, parading a dead bird around my living room.
That’s when I lost my ever-loving mind. I scooted Punky outside as quickly as possible, not wanting her to drop the dead thing in my house. Once she was outside Scott was able to get her to drop the bird, and I brought him an old grocery bag to put it in. Then we let Punky back inside and resumed our introductions.
“So, how have you been? The boys have grown so much! Are those muffins you brought?” Blah, blah, blah.
Then I noticed Scott and the two boys jerking their heads and arms oddly around, looking up and down and all around. What the hell is going on now? Then I hear someone say, “I think we let in a yellow jacket.”
?@#$@?#%#*&!
I couldn’t find the fly swatter, but the dang thing wouldn’t land anyway. It ended up flying inside one of the window blinds and Scott had to vacuum it out. I didn’t use that vacuum for a few weeks, just to be sure it was dead before I emptied the dust cup (yes, I had to look that term up).
I don’t even remember much after this point because it was just utterly ridiculous, all this happening at once. I had gone in a matter of minutes from the excitement of seeing my friends to full on freaking out that there were dead things and sting-y things in my house. All I could do was laugh at the timing and the absurdity. I’m still laughing now.
Scott and the boys left for the zoo and Tara and I settled in for coffee and muffins and talked for hours. It was so wonderful to catch up with her and if it hadn’t been memorable enough, we’ll always share that memory of how it started off with dead birds and dangerous bugs.
Meet Punky. She’s a 9 week old golden retriever. We adopted her last Friday and she very quickly stole our hearts. It took us several days to agree on a name. Dad wanted Biggie. Daughter wanted Bailey, so we called her that for awhile, until we learned how common that name already was. I wanted Stevie (Fleetwood Mac, Schitt’s Creek) but noone seemed to like that one. We remembered the golden retriever on the show Punky Brewster, and thought Punky would be a suitable name (Brandon was the name of the dog on the show. Sandy was the actual dog’s name, if you wanna go super nerdy.) It’s taking some practice to get the name right but I’m pretty sure we’re sticking with Punky.
Her big sister, Piper, is not so thrilled about this development. It’s not that she’s intimated by Punky’s energy, because Piper has puppy level energy even at age 7. I think what she dislikes is the invasion of her space. This whole house has her name written all over it, and she does not want to share it. Typical only child syndrome. She will adjust. I’m noticing subtle changes in her daily, so I know she’ll get there. Eventually.
This picture above was taken by Grandma on the third day she was home with us, so she was still super chill and snuggly. It has now been a week and she is still chill and snuggly, but far more energetic and playful. My next post will likely discuss my sudden remembrance of the exhaustion involved with raising new creatures (puppies, babies, kittens, etc.).
I know I’ve not been posting a lot here but I hope to get back to some more regular updates, so stick around. And Happy Holidays!
Deaf and half-blind runner with multiple sclerosis
Little M.S. Runner 