Lessons Learned this Week

The VIM and I had to find a new place to run. Our beloved place - a winding path beside a river that had been created specifically for walkers/bikers/horseback riders - is temporarily under the river after heavy rains.

The VIM said he knew the perfect spot - a country road that was closed except to local traffic due to a bridge construction a few miles up the road. We drove and measured 1.6 miles and agreed on the turnaround point, then went back, parked, and warmed up. It was time to get 'er done.

The VIM and I don't run together. We walk to the starting point together, and he waits for me at the end, but in between I'm alone. So I was all alone when I learned the Very Important Rules for Running on Country Roads.

I dreaded the run. Even though it was a relatively flat road, there were hills. I don't do hills. My brain has told me over and over that hills are simply too hard for me. Can't be done. As I started out, though, I realized that my brain was maybe a little overdramatic. Hills may suck, but they're doable, and actually, the downhills (which I never considered before) are sort of fun. If nothing else, it breaks up the monotony. So Lesson #1 was learned on the very first little hill: I shouldn't always listen to my brain. My brain has a long memory and will sometimes still speak for the very scared overweight couch potato. It's a proven fact that the very scared overweight couch potato will use any means to remain a very scared overweight couch potato.

Lesson #2 was also learned early on, at the bottom of the first little dip in the road: In real life, roadkill is much MUCH bigger than it appears when you're driving by it in your car. This is where I also learned Lesson #2a: Try to avoid looking and (lesson #2b) breathing in the general vicinity of roadkill. Seriously - just close your eyes and go...even if you think you're looking away, chances are good that some of the roadkill will also be where ever you happen to look. It's that big.

I was past the turnaround point and just starting back when I learned the very important (perhaps the most important) Lesson #3: Even on a quiet country road there are bound to be houses. It's likely that some of those houses will have dogs. A few of those dogs may not be on chains or otherwise secured to the property. And if you're really REALLY unlucky, one of those unchained dogs might be a rotweiller.

I'm a dog person. I've never been afraid of dogs. I totally respect them, but I've never feared one, so my first thought when I saw this great big black dog running toward me on the road was a 4-year-old-like glee - "Lookie! A great big black dog!!!" As he closed the distance between us (at roughly the speed of light), the first thought turned into "Uh oh, his teeth are bared and his hair is standing up on his back and, Holy Mother of God, I didn't know a dog could run that fast and growl that loud at the same time!" We screeched to a halt (this all happened so fast that my legs hadn't gotten the message to "Stop Running for the Love of God!") about 25 feet from each other. Little woman, tired from the first 1.6 miles, sweat dripping, eyes huge, frantically gasping for air. Really big black dog, really big white teeth, snarling (snarling!), willing to do whatever it takes to protect the homeland. A standoff in the middle of the road.

I was paralyzed. Literally. My body stood absolutely still while my brain strained to switch gears into Panic Mode. Once fully charged with panic, I looked up to see a tiny VIM, far far in front of me, disappearing over the next hill. I screeched for him even though I knew he couldn't hear me. I only did it once though, because I didn't know how the dog would feel about me screaming in terror. Loud noises might make things worse, and quite frankly, at that moment in life, my entire existence centered on making that dog as happy as possible.

I wasn't doing a very good job.

The standoff in the middle of the road continued for quite some time. I honestly didn't know what to do...play dead?...turn back (which would be AWAY from the car)?...stand there and wait till the VIM realized I wasn't coming and drove back to resuce me? In the end, I simply stood there, trying to convince the dog that I was totally uninterested in this entire episode. "Look," I told him, "you're doing a great job here with the guarding thing, but I've gotta get back to the car, so let's say this is a draw and call it a day?" He wasn't having it. So I ended up standing there until he got bored and turned back toward his home. Relieved, I took a step foward. He stopped, turned around, snarled. Jesus. I waited till he got further away and took another step. He allowed me to proceed. At this point, my brain was a little overworked. The adrenaline was still pumping, and it was making my legs want to run. Some little shred of common sense held me back. Running closer to a dog that just made it absolutely clear that he could beat the shit out of me without a second thought was not an intelligent decision. So I walked slowly, quietly behind the dog on the road until he finally made a sharp left turn off the road and up a little winding lane back home. I still had to walk by the lane to make it to the car (still a fucking mile and a quarter away). "Don't look. Don't glance in the direction of the lane. Look straight ahead. Don't let on like you know that there is a great big black dog with great big white teeth sitting at the top of the lane." I sauntered on past, hopefully giving off the aura of someone who's on her way to a tea party. No fear here, nope, none at all. Just a happy sunny day out here in the godforsaken middle of fucking nowhere. Yesiree, it's a great day.

The dog allowed me to pass. I walked on a little further and decided to book it. That's when I discovered the wonderful world of Adrenaline Dumps and the Aftermath of Fight or Flight. In the aftermath, there is no fight or flight. Just a mile and a quarter feet-dragging, will-this-nightmare-ever-end slog back to the car.

As I got to the end, the VIM was there with his stopwatch.
"Wow, that's the slowest you've run in a long time. Maybe you need someone to run behind you and prod you on."

I was too tired to speak. I just snarled.