So it's been a few days since I rapped at ya. I was giving That Squirrel Story some time to sink in before I went on with the rest of the craziness that is my life. Well, I assume it's sunk in by now.C'est La Vie
I have no idea if that heading is proper French or not, but we'll assume for now that it is. Editor's Warning: This is about to get nasty. One of the sad side effects of running a bazillion miles, as some of you in Readerland put it, is that you sometimes find yourself losing toenails. Yes, this is a gross subject but one I think is worth discussing.
Saturday, prior to The Great Squirrel Fiasco of 2007, I was out in The Boulders running a few miles. I was wearing a pair of less-than-ideal shoes because they had some dog shit on them and I wanted to let the granular snow get all up in those treads and clean them out once and for all. As an aside, it didn't work and the soles are poo-stink-stained to the core. I guess they'll be my shit-kickers from now on, pun intended. Anyway, when I got home my index toes were killing me. They had that feel about them that toes get about two weeks before they lose the nail.
Well, as the day wore on the left index toenail really took to hurting. I iced it for a while, elevated it, but by about 8:00 I could no longer stand it so I took off my slipper (which helped) and sock and much to my chagrin the entire toe looked like it was going to explode. The nail itself was floating on a sub-cuticle (if that's a word) blister. I had two choices: leave it alone and hope I didn't step wrong and explode the whole freaking digit, or drain the blister and hope the nail doesn't just fall off right then and there.
(Note: Just a picture I found online, not my foot. Pretty gross though)
I opted for the latter, which involved standing in the bathroom burning a needle with a lighter, heroin junkie style. I hope the neighbor wasn't looking. I then, with the skill of a surgeon, inserted the needle under my nail all the way to the base of the nail. I could actually see the needle through the nail, which I have to say is pretty gross. I repeated this process a few times to drain all of the blister pockets, and when I was done the nail was noticeably less swollen. I popped two Tylenol to help with the swelling in the rest of the toe and slept with my foot on a pillow to at least elevate it a little. The worst part was that I wouldn't be able to run in the morning, as I would be a-hobbling around for most of the day.
Nasty, I know.Upgrades
While I was wallowing in my toe sorrows, I found my web browser aiming itself in the direction of running snowshoes. I have a pair of snowshoes, but running in them requires your feet to be unnaturally far apart and after a few miles your hips are wicked sore. Plus the two snowshoes side-by-side are wider than a snowmobile track, which is commonly where you're running. At any rate I treated myself to a new pair of snowshoes made specifically for running. I didn't do a whole lot of research, let's hope it works out.
Last night I swung by my buddy Lenford's house to "take a look" at the camera he was looking to unload. If you know me, by the time I'm "taking a look" I'm already sold on it and I hope to go home with it. Needless to say I'm the proud owner of a Canon EOS Rebel XTI DSLR. He upgraded to the 40D, and sold me the kit lens that comes with that since he wouldn't be needing it. He had already sold the kit lens from the XTI, which is reportedly a piece of junk. It seemed like a good deal all around.
After we finished playing cameras, talking cameras and photography in general we hooked up the Wii and played a few video games. I had never even seen one of those things in person before and I have to tell you, it's freaking amazing. We played baseball, tennis, golf, boxing and bowling (just a little sampler of each), and I lost handsomely at every single game. We even did the "Fitness Test", and I have the Nintendo Fitness Level of an 80 year old man. Weak I tell you, weak.
Besides knocking over a table full of framed photos (not the whole table, just the photos) I didn't do too much damage. You really need a lot of room to play those games, and it wouldn't hurt to have some towels around cuz you get hotter than a June bride on a depot stove.One Last Thing
Just in case you were concerned that my toe was holding me back, I knocked back a cool 9 miles in the 33 degree rain tonight. It was a little icy, but I'm a tough sonofabitch so I can handle it. In reality I was drenched with sweat when I finished, and my face was caked with salty goodness. Shortly thereafter it was caked with chocolate cakey goodness too.
WTF?
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Kicking Ass and Taking Names
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Santa Came Early
There I was, enjoying my after-breakfast coffee. The fire was roaring, the coffee was delicious and I was gently drifting in and out of sleep to the smooth jazz of The Philadelphia Experiment. There were some strange noises coming from the fireplace, but they could easily have been the sound of steam leaving a log. I got up to fetch another cup of coffee and in the time it took me to walk to the kitchen all hell broke loose.Santa Busts In
I booked it out of the kitchen thinking a huge log rolled out onto the rug or a shower of sparks was slowly enpolka-dotting my rug. Nope, a squirrel had apparently been sitting atop the damper in my chimney and the heat got to be too much for him. How he lasted that long I'll never know, but he did. The cats had him cornered behind the couch, and he was slowly shredding my curtains in an attempt to flee. All I could think was "F&(k, how the hell am I gonna catch this damn thing?"
I grabbed a cardboard box, which quickly proved to be useless. I then upgraded to the lid from my cake carrier which at least had a handle. I chased the squirrel all around the downstairs and every time I'd have him cornered he'd book ass into another room. The cats watched in amusement.
Finally I started closing off rooms to contain him, which then forced him upstairs. Thank GOD my bedroom door was shut because as I chased him hither and thither, I found he had a bad foot and was leaving bloody footprints everywhere. Sweet!
So he went upstairs alongside Nano, the eldest and most fearful cat in the house, into the spare bedroom. I closed the door and spent the next 20 minutes or so trying to trick him into a clear plastic tub. Over and over he would elude the bin, leaving more footprints around the room.
Afraid that he might try to hide in one of my tubs filled with running clothes, I closed them up, stacked them in a corner and returned to the chase. He had found his way to the top of a futon frame I had standing on end, and was tending to his game foot. The picture to the right is of his perch.
Eventually I was able to trap him beneath the plastic tub, slide the lid underneath and lock him in. If you've never seen a frightened squirrel with a bloody foot trapped in a clear plastic tub, it's not a pleasant sight. I carried him downstairs and out the door as quickly as I could, opened the lid and set him free. I hope he makes it, poor little guy.
Now, you may recall there was mention of blood. I filled the bloody squirrel tub with Murphy's Oil Soap and water, and set to work cleaning up the trails. The bedroom upstairs seemed to be the worst, and as I moved things around to clean up, I just kept finding more and more.
Finally as I was cleaning the last of it behind the futon frame I noticed a little blob. "Is that what I think it is?" Yup, while I was stacking the tubs and preparing to launch my last attack he copped a squat on my furniture. You can even see the tell-tale squirrel ass hair he left behind.
Son of a bitch!
So how's your day going?
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Poo Neck Storm
Ha ha, I hadn't named this post yet and when it autosaves, it just takes the first few words in the post and uses those. Well, I only typed in headings yesterday so I'd remember what I wanted to write about. The first section was to discuss the poo on my shoe, the second was to talk about my injured neck, the third was the storm windows and the last was to bitch about travel mugs. The autosave named it "Poo Neck Storm" (it didn't get all the way to the travel mug section I guess) and I felt that was a good title.Poo
Last time we talked, I told y'all about the dog poo on my sneaker. Well, not wanting a repeat performance involving poop shoes, I decided to give them a thorough scrub-down in the shower. I tossed them in there, gave them a rinsing to get the poo good and moist, and took a scrub brush to them.
Shoe #1 gave up the poo with no problems. Shoe #2 gave up half the poo with no problems, but the poo in the forefoot section put up a fight. I can only imagine that I stepped in the poo of two separate dogs because after several attempts I still can't get the forefoot poo off. This leads me to the following conclusion.
The dog who generated the forefoot poo has some sort of super-canine bowels. He surely feeds on police officers (or at least their bullet-proof vests) and high-end canoes, which would explain the Kevlar reinforced poo. Seriously, I canNOT scrape it out of the tread. These shoes have plenty of tread left so I'm not throwing them out, but it's reaching the absurdity level pretty quickly.Neck
Dammit, my neck is still bothering me. I reinjured it either shoveling, which is likely or doing my power abs workout, which I refuse to admit to. It's definitely something unavoidable like shoveling.Storm Windows
My storm windows are scraped, glazed, primed and ready for installation. I had to let them "rest" a few days to make sure the primer had a chance to really cure up good. I'm not going to be painting them quite yet, so they're going up as primer white for the time being.
Editor's Note: As of press time the windows were installed. Read about it in the next installment of Ranting's of an Old Coot.Travel Mug
The other day I brought some tea with me to work. It was cold out and I wanted a warm drink for the 5 minute drive. I make the tea, poured it into my most trusted travel mug and headed out the door.
I set the mug down in the cupholder and proceeded to scrape the car windows. It was snowing a little, which is important to note. When I got to work I got out of the car and noticed some wetness on the front of my jacket. "Oh, that must have been some snow that melted" I thought.
Minutes later I was seated at my desk, casually sipping my tea when the damn lid leaked a big splash of tea onto my pants. You've probably heard me complain before about travel mugs and their fondness for leaking. You've also probably heard that my complaint is not with the drinking part leaking, where it's really just operator error, but with the seal at the lid leaking. I have no tolerance for leaking travel mugs, especially ones with "Leak Proof" in the name, and I almost chucked the damn thing right then and there.
If anyone knows of a travel mug that doesn't leak, I'd like to hear about it.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Monday, December 03, 2007
The Poop Deck
Happy Monday, folks. I'm going to try and make this quick, which you've heard before, but this time I mean it. I have to get this puppy whipped out during lunch because I'll never get to it tonight.Put on Your Shit Kickers and Kick Some Shit
Let me set the scene for you. It was a nice late summer day and I was out mowing the lawn. I'm sure the birds were chirping and I'm sure there was a pleasant breeze in the air. I finished the job, put the lawn mower away and was probably getting dinner ready. That's when I noticed something malodorous in the air. Often the cats don't bury their most disgusting turds and the stench will waft up from the basement, but this was different. That's when I noticed the (ahem) trail I left throughout the house. Eggscelent.
You probably already know that I don't own a dog. I have no aspirations of owning a dog and like other people's dogs as long as they don't interfere with what I'm trying to do. When someone's dog shits on my lawn I get annoyed. Yes, dogs have to shit somewhere and it's a shame they can't use a toilet, but I don't have a dog partly because I don't want to be bothered with walking one. If you don't want to be bothered, then don't have one, or fence your yard. However you want to deal with the dog's business is your business, but it shouldn't be my business and it certainly shouldn't be embedded in my wool rug.
I got my sneakers and house all cleaned up and was over it. Then, maybe a month later I was out raking the lawn and wouldn't you know I stepped in either the same pile twice or two separate piles, and both shoes had dog shit all up in their treads. I left them in the basement and reverted back to my old, worn out sneakers. My plan was to stall it out until we had some snow, then I could shovel a few times in them and they'd be as good as new.
Last night as the snow fell I decided it was time. I went out, scraped the car, and drove to Price Chopper to do some shopping while the melted snow permeated the shit particles. Maybe I'd leave a trail in the store, maybe not but that wasn't my concern. I figured once I got home I could traipse around the yard a bit and it would work the rest of the turdage out. It didn't.
This morning we had a bunch more snow and the car was going to need scraping. I threw on my enshitted sneakers, scraped the car, shoveled the end of the driveway, dug the shit out with a stick, walked around the driveway and shoveled some more. I was no longer leaving brown stains in the snow, so I thought I was good. I got all the way to work, sloshed through the messy parking lot and had been working up a storm when I could no longer ignore the stench. There was still shit on my sneakers!
Fortunately I had an extra two pair of business sneakers at my desk. I opted for the pair with the paint on it over the pair that's a little too small, and placed the offending sneakers in a plastic bag. I'll probably have to shovel the end of the driveway again tonight, which I can only hope will do the trick. If not, I'll take a stiff brush to them, douse them in bleach, then throw them in a fire. That has to work.Ain't Got My Sea Legs
Thursday night I was sound asleep, that much I know. From there I can only speculate, but here's what I think happened...
I awoke at some predawn hour with both legs still fast asleep. Apparently my groggy mind misread the lack of sensation as cold feet, and I climbed out of bed to find some socks. Well, if you've ever tried to walk with both legs asleep, you'll know it's not easy. Then if you're barely awake yourself it's really a difficult task. I think I staggered over to the dresser trying to balance myself on top of two phantom legs, found and applied a pair of socks, and stumbled back to bed. I say I think I did, because I'm not 100% sure.
You see, until it's time to get up I don't get out of bed for anything. Gunfire outside my bedroom? As long as they don't come in, I'm fine with it. My bladder about to explode at the next slightest flinch? I can hold it for 6 more hours. The house on fire? The fire station is just down the road. I'm certainly not going to get up because my feet are a little chilly. But if it was a dream, it sure was a good one because it felt real to me.
At this point there's no way to determine whether it was real or not, short of some sort of Total Recall machine (which I think actually put memories into your head, not dug them out). I guess we'll never know.
And I'm out.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Three Day Report
What's the good word, yo? Today has been a long, tired day. Yesterday was also long, which made today tired and Friday was just a good productive day.Friday - Still Working on them Windurs
Yep, just as I thought I'm still working on my storm windows. The temperatures and snowflakes have already fallen and I still don't have my act together. I picked up some primer earlier this week, driving the repair cost of my shitty storm windows up to $80. Christ!
So Friday morning I picked up a brush and slapped a coat of primer on one side of each window. Since I'm working in the cold basement it takes a while to dry, and I couldn't get to the other side. No skin off my teeth.
Instead of watching the paint dry, I threw a few loads in the washing machine. It was a sunny day, around 30 degrees so I put the first load out on the clothesline. It was all running clothes save a pair of khakis so I knew it would dry in the sun. For the second load I bit the bullet and used the dryer. Oh well, I knew I couldn't dry outside forever. Plus, spring will be here before we know it.Saturday, a New PR
Saturday morning was a cold, nagging bitch of a day. It was the kind of day that makes you want to curl up in front of a fire, drink cocoa and read a book. Well, instead of doing those things I headed out to Northampton, MA for The Hot Chocolate Run. It's a 5k started by the mayor herself, with proceeds going to help victims of domestic abuse/violence. I had already paid for it, so I had to go.
The beauty of the Hot Chocolate Run is that at the end they have tents set up with, you guessed it, hot chocolate for everyone. In fact, the first 2,500 entrants get a mug too. What blew was that it was about 20 degrees, windy as a sumbitch and we got there too late for a proper warm up. With mere moments left before the race started I lined up in the corral alongside the sign for the 20:00 5K runners. That's been my goal all summer, and if I could hang with someone fast just maybe I could break that barrier.
As I stood there, my toes completely numb and hands not far behind, the guy next to me was describing the route to whoever was listening. I'm going to paraphrase here, but I think it's fairly accurate:After the first turn up here at (insert name of street) it's a gradual uphill. After the first mile is The Big Hill (which I had heard other people discussing). You gotta just hang on for a half mile and you'll be at the top. Nobody's setting a PR (personal record) on this course (he said with a chuckle), it's too hilly. At the top of the hill you'll get to the Gust of Wind. You'll make a hard turn to the right and it's all downhill from there.
Well, The Big Hill was not that big for the finely tuned Western Mass Athletes I rolled out there with. In fact, despite never discussing the hill before we all came to the conclusion "where was that hill?". And The Gust of Wind, apparently a local landmark, was there exactly where the guy described.
The whole way up what I guess was the hill I picked off runner after runner. There was one guy however, who sort of played leapfrog with me. I let him get ahead and hung off his shoulder (not literally) for the rest of the race. When we turned the last corner, about 3/10ths of a mile from the finish I was on pace to break 20:00. I put everything I had into the last kick and crossed the finish line at 19:39, 0:21 faster than my goal!
Not only did I set a PR on this "hilly" course, but everyone else I rode out with did too. We had lofty goals, but we've been working hard at the track every week and it payed off. I almost threw up on the timing chip girl, but it would still have been worth it to set that new record.
The hot chocolate afterwards was awesome, and they had mini marshmallows by the tubful, that you got to add to your own hot chocolate with a soup ladle. Oh, I fucked UP some hot chocolate and marshmallows.
The drawback to attending a race in a college town is that all the guys are in my age group (18-29), so there's no chance of winning any prizes. On the flip side, all the girls are in my age group too. It was lycra heaven, let me tell you!Sunday, an Easy Run
Sunday morning we had a trail run set up for 9:00 AM. Like Saturday it was cold as a bitch again, but at least it wasn't as windy. I dragged my ass out of bed, suited up and headed down the cold road towards the meeting spot.
Blah blah blah, we got navigationally sidetracked a few times as we usually do, and it ended up being a really long run. So long in fact that my body was really starting to cool off. My hands were completely numb and I was getting that "I need to get out of this cold before my body shuts down" feeling.
When I got to my house, I walked into the kitchen to get my shoes off. I pulled my gloves off with my teeth and started untying my shoes. I could see from the getgo that my thumbs didn't work. Not that they didn't work well, they didn't work at all. I could barely move them. I rubbed my hands together to warm them up and noticed that I was numb up a few inches past my wrists. I finally got the shoes off without using my thumbs, yanked my shirts off and put on warm and dry shirts. I was numb from the elbow down. Shit! I guess the thin windbreaker and one long sleeved shirt weren't enough for my arms. I had a short sleeved shirt on underneath, but that didn't help the forearms.
It was probably 15-20 minutes before my thumbs were back in effect, and another half hour before I was completely warmed back up. I spent the next few hours in wool socks, flannel pants, a turtleneck and fleece sweatshirt, wrapped in a thick blanket on the couch before I was really 100% again. Lesson learned? Yup, wear two long sleeved shirts and maybe some warmer gloves. There's always a little learning curve at the beginning of the winter, but I typically err on the side of being too warm instead of too cold. I guess there's a first time for everything.
That's that. I've got dinner in the oven and I'm gonna settle in for the evening. I'll holler at y'all later.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
