Dirt

It was one of those weeks.

I have been kinda grunged or sick of something. Work has been crazy stressful. And then I went to get an echo.

It’s weird going from Scottsdale to Corpus when it comes to medical care. From the major league to AAA.  I went in with some trepidation.

If you’ve ever had an echo you know the drill. You lie there with the slime from “Ghostbusters” smeared all over you while they slide a gizmo around on your chest and frown. Nothing is ever said. You have no idea what they’re seeing.

Until this week. The guy doing my test was training a med student and they asked if she could work out on me. I figured what the hey.

So there they were, discussing what they saw.

There’s nothing like hearing, “Oh, look at that” and seeing both of them lean forward for a closer look. “Oh, wow.” That was an actual quote. Yikes.

But then everything was fine considering I have a transplanted baboon heart, which greatly impressed them. The guy was super smart and said everything looked fine, which was probably illegal but good to hear. If this is AAA, it’s good enough for my AA body.

I wanted to ask if my heart is so fine, why can’t I get under 13 minutes for a mile. But I guess baboons just weren’t meant for distance running.

So when today finally arrived I really needed to run. We skipped church (sorry, Hazel) and I went to the track.

The best thing about Mo and I both feeling blah is that I can say things like “I’m going to the track” and not get the look.

I love this track. It’s an old, lumpy cinder, like they used to make before the metric system and “stay the hell off our track” signs and things got complicated.

Soundgarden came along and we did a lovely three miles. I guess runs shouldn’t be described as lovely, but I’m sickly and haven’t run in a long time. Trust me, it was lovely.

The rain has left the track muddy, so it’s that childhood joy of leaving your footprints. It was great.

I used to wonder why the cat would stare at me. I think I know now. As a kitten she chased her tail endlessly. She eventually figured it out. I’m pretty sure she’ s wondering why I haven’t done the same.

But that’s OK. All that other stuff is left behind for a glorious 39 minutes of my life. I’ve got a muddy track. Just a run in the dirt. Life is good.

    About gary

    no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
    This entry was posted in running. Bookmark the permalink.

    4 Responses to Dirt

    1. Lit Chick says:

      Hooray for a glorious 39 minutes! Maybe those endorphins will get rid of your blahs.

    2. sassafras says:

      ok…. a new hat and a hair cut

    3. tosuperstar says:

      Glad you were able to get a run in!!! Hazel can give ya two hugs next Sunday. In our town the private school my son went to is the only track that allows you to run on their track. The public school that my 4 daughters won’t let you on, even though I pay 2,400.00 property tax that helped build the track.

    4. JustaJester says:

      Dammit all! Now I’ll have to stifle my repertoire of monkey jokes!

      Funny, though! Back when we were doing some brewskis in Phoenix, I remember you casually mentioning a cardiac surgery event. but I don’t recall any monkey business.

      Aw… Maybe I actually had a few more than the dos Dos Equis that I recall!

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