On Friday evening, I perked up a bit and decided that, if I continued to feel better, I would go for a run on Saturday morning. (My first run since getting sick on May 30th.)
I got up, laced up my running shoes and publicly humiliated myself. That's right. I ran, or maybe huffed and puffed and barely moved my feet. I'm sure I looked like I was about to die as I ran up Main Street. (Oh, why did I pick Main Street to be my first run in two weeks?!?) I'm sure I could walk faster than I was moving during that "run." In fact, I was running so slowly that someone pulled over and asked me for directions! I kid you not.
I was going to go for a short two miles, but had to cut it shorter. I stopped and walked twice and only went 1.5 miles.
I ran two miles this morning (on my treadmill, thankyouverymuch). Maybe some day I'll be able to run again in public.
If that weren't depressing enough, on Saturday morning (shortly after my "run"), I started to smell something foul. I blamed Sawyer for a messy diaper, but he was insistent that it wasn't him. I started blaming all the boys in my house for stinking it up, but they all denied it. Suddenly I ran for the basement. Yep, sure enough. Town sewage was backing up into our basement. This was the third time it has happened to us. And the worst so far.
We spent the rest of Saturday getting everything out of our basement onto our lawn. Joe had a bunch of tools and such down there. All of our Christmas decorations, etc., had to be pulled out. I'm sure the trash guys loved us today. We probably filled up their truck with one stop. Not everything was ruined. We just pulled it all out to inspect. Joe built shelves to move things to higher ground as I sorted through was what salvageable, what was trash, and what could be taken to the barn (tools) or to the chicken coop (camping gear).
We still have stuff sitting out there under tarps while Joe continues to build shelves. (He took off Monday but we'll have to wait until Saturday until he can do more.)
We keep joking that, now that I'm in town council, I've "taken one for the town" and "officially have taken the town's crap." Oh, and when the guy came to remove the clog on the street, he said someone had flushed rags. RAGS! Who are these people? I'd like to find them. (We've also joked that it's him.)
* * * And not related to my crappy Saturday, but relating to my last "real" run on May 30th: * * *
On May 30th I ran a 5K with some friends from church. It was in honor and in memory of Caitlin, who died last fall from injuries in the car accident that also took her brother's life. The 5K was special, not only because it benefited the Living Legacy Foundation (Caitlin's parents donated her organs), but it would have been Caitlin's sweet 16th birthday, as well.
We got up bright and early to drive to Baltimore for this run. When the run started, I decided not to start off too fast. I had to dodge a walker and a little girl on a scooter (who should have been in the back), but I started at a good pace. As I'm running and jamming with my iPod I noticed a friend of mine not too far ahead of me, so I decided to catch up with her. When I reached her, I tapped her on the shoulder and blurted out, "My skirt is falling down!" (which I soon realized was way too loud because my iPod was way too loud). She replied, "Mine, too," at which time a few people ahead of us looked back. I guess to witness the two girls losing their skirts on the run. I didn't really laugh then because I think I was too mortified (and I was trying to run), but I can't stop laughing about it now.
The race ended way too short. Literally. When I got to around 20 minutes, I knew I'd have about a mile or so left. Then, we went around the turn and it was over. The run ended up being about 2.4 miles (more like a 4K) and we finished it in 21 minutes. I was slightly disappointed that the run wasn't longer, but it was a good run with good company, so I can't complain.