Last night Alexander had a baseball game that didn’t end until almost 7pm. I threw two tired and dusty kids in the car, ran through the drycleaner to grab Mr G’s clothes (they love it when he doesn’t come to work naked), and then headed off to my favorite Gastropub.
Mr G says that Gastopub is a horrible name made up by elitist hipsters. I tend to agree with him, but it is a gastropub and it’s frequented by families like ours who want to cling the mistaken notion that we are still hip and cool post parenthood.
In any event we were off to the gastropub because everyone knows that for the second night of passover it is traditional to have pork belly skewers. Or not, but I really really love them. So Jane and I shared three small dishes, one chopped salad, one order of roasted marrow bones, and pork belly skewers. Sadly Mr G was working late and I had to drive us all home so I had just one glass of wine.
I’m pretty sure dinner was eighty bazillion calories so I promised myself that I would run (not walk) Fryman Canyon. The Fryman Canyon loop is just about 3 miles and it’s pretty hilly but it’s nice soft dirt and if you can manage to not slide down the mountain you’re in pretty good shape. As I was approaching the parking lot and thinking who the hell pays three dollars to take a hike I noticed a woman who looked a little familiar. And then I saw a smile and I had that wonderful moment where I saw a friend. A real honest to goodness I chose you because you’re grounded and smart and talented and not just because we met at mommy and me friend. We smiled and waved and said hello and I got a chance to meet Grace Jones, her five month old dog who has almost grown into her ears.
Grace greeted me by jumping on my legs (she is not a lady) and when I bent over to pet her she could not decide if she wanted to bite me or lick me so she settled for five minutes of gnawing my right forearm while slobbering profusely. Mary and I chatted and I used my left arm to pet Grace Jones all the while thinking about how fabulous mother nature is. Had Grace Jones been any less adorable this would have been unbearable, but Grace is ridiculous is the cute department so I wasn’t going to let a bucketful of slobber deter me.
I hugged Mary goodbye and made my way up the hill. The first part of the run is tough because tons of folks bring their dogs on walks, make it about 200 feet and then turn around and walk right back to their cars. The first 200 feet is all dog pee and poop. I walk quickly because everyone knows my supersmell makes walks like this difficult. I pass a trio of very fancy women who leave a cloud of perfume in their wake. I hold my breath when I’m close to them.
After the first bit of the hike I’m jogging slowly. I’m scanning ten feet in front of me to look for gopher holes and slippery rocks. I’m a little congested. The ragweed is as tall as I am and everything is in bloom so I spit a lot.
I reach the top of the hill and now the sun is just breaking through the morning clouds. My eyes begin to water. I’m running on flat ground so I’m picking up speed and my nose begins to run so I touch my nose with my right hand and now all I can smell is Grace Jones slobber. The heat of my body is activating her scent so I instead use my right hand to grab my left sleeve and wipe my eyes and then my nose on my tee.
I’m running through the canyons in my Media Temple tee (nerd running) with dog slobber on my right arm, snot on my left shoulder and bits of yesterday’s makeup around the corners of my teary eyes.
I ran pretty fast even if it was a pitiful sight.