I have not done any formal exercising since... well... since ever, I guess. Seriously, the last time I worked out with any consistency was in 2000 with some friends at Dixie Middle School in St. George, UT, but I'm not sure I experienced any measurable results and it only lasted a couple of months. However, this past weekend, I made the committment to run a 5k. I told my friends. I told my coworkers. I'm now blogging about it. I am serious!
I'm thinking of doing the
Turkey Trot in November as the culminating event for this
experiment,
torture, exercise. I downloaded a great
Couch to 5K app on my iPhone to help me with my training. I push start on the app and a pleasant English woman tells me when to walk, when to run, and gives me small words of encouragement. She is a nice running companion because she doesn't care that I look like a beached whale struggling to make it back in the water. She doesn't care that my "running" is only slightly faster than my walking with just a lot more "up and down" motion going on. I like her. (Once I'm feeling better about my running skills though, I hope I can update to the "totally sexy Irish Man voice" to help motivate me.) I finished my mile walk/run and was only sucking wind for a few minutes. Yes, I said a mile. Only a mile. Don't laugh. Well, ok you can laugh. I am. The people who saw me walking/running/sucking wind yesterday are, too. See you at the Turkey Trot in November!
When I got home from my walk/run, Grayson and I found a small, dying, baby quail just inside our back door. I'm pretty sure this was a victim of our dog, Sammy, attempting to play. This little bird was so tiny! It was about the size of a ping-pong ball. It was struggling to move and it's little chirp was not very strong. Grayson had to hold it, and then show it to Maddie, who then also had to hold it. Being the callous and uncaring mother that my children always remind me that I am, I told Maddie to hold it, then go throw it in the garbage can outside. (I know, I know... BIG MISTAKE!)
Grayson was being obedient for once and followed my instructions to wash his hands. I laid down on my bed to
die recover from my walk/run. About 10 minutes later, Grayson came in and, after making fun of me because of the sweat still running down my face, informed me that, "Maddie can't do it."
I went outside to find Maddie standing in front of the garbage can sobbing. Not crying, not sniffling, but SOBBING! She looked at me with her mascara stained cheeks and red nose and cried, "I can't do it, mom. I can't do it." I took the little bird from her and tried to open the garbage can to take care of things myself and she WAILED, "NOOO! Please don't do it, mom."
Sheesh. What was I supposed to do now? I did what any exhausted and pain suffering (yes, my muscles were starting to hurt by this time) person would do... I tried to appease her. "Should we take it inside and wait until it's dead before we put it in the garbage?" I asked. She nodded - tears and snot flying - emphatically. She then asked if we could bury it instead of throwing it away. "Of course we can, sweetheart." I told her.
So, I took the feathered ping-pong ball inside. Maddie got a small tupperwear container. We put a nice bed of paper towels in the bottom on which I gently placed the bird. We put the bird on the windowsill to wait for it to "pass on." Grayson asked if he could go dig the "grave" for the bird. I rolled my eyes.
Maddie went back to sweeping the floor, but was still crying. Grayson watched her for a minute and then said to her, "Maddie, I'm not trying to be rude, but 'man up'."
Classic.
It took every bit of energy I had left to not go over and give him a high five.
About every 10 minutes after that, Grayson wanted to check on the bird to see if it was dead so he could go dig a grave. Maddie would look at it and cry more. I asked Ryan, who was playing the Wii this whole time, if he wanted to see the bird. He didn't.
I finally told Maddie and Grayson that I was going to put the bird back outside "so it's mommy can find it and take care of it." Grayson followed me outside and helped me
dump gently put the bird in the tall grass by the fence. He then wanted to dig a hole right then because the bird's mom might not show up in time. He informed that in the morning he was going to check on the bird "first thing" and if it was dead, he'd take care of it so I wouldn't have to. Isn't he a gentleman?
Maddie finally stopped crying.
This morning, the bird was gone. It's mother must have found it and taken it back to the family nest to nurse it back to health... right?
Oh yeah, my legs are really, really sore!
