Pre-Testing Season Happiness

5:36am

I’m awake at 5:36am. On a Sunday.

Because I live next door to a rooster.

Actually, no.

I live next door to a Jack Russell Terrier.

He lives next door to a rooster.

And do you know what the rooster lives next door to?

Another rooster.

Those mother fuckers will talk for hours.

It actually kind of sounds like they’re doing that “What’s your name???” bit. Over. And over. And over.

And I want to just scream out of my bedroom window, “Fuck you both!”

And they started this well before 5:36am. That’s just the time my brain would no longer ignore the conversation.

It’s 7:15am now.

They’re still talking.

Normally, I wouldn’t mind.

I get up at 5 anyway.

But this weekend. This is my last weekend of happiness.

Before this starts.

That’s what the start of Testing Season looks like.

That shit runs through the end of May.

So, I spent last week doing nice things for me.

Got welcomed to my neighborhood exactly the way one should be welcomed.

With snacks.

And a rubber duck.

Got to join the National Honor Society kids on one of their Read Across America trips to an elementary school.

Where one of the staff said, “You’re Smart Child’s mom, right?”

Yeah. That’s…an impressive memory…

Of course, he is the child that resulted in a phone call home from the principal. On day one. Because he refused to choose just one race on some form.

“Well, if he’s not going to pick one, I’m sure not picking one for him.”

I assume they resolved that situation with “Other.”

Grabbed a beer with GBFF…WHTBS and Former IT Guy Wednesday night. Where Former IT Guy knew exactly where Lagertha’s name came from.

Not that any of you have asked.

It’s fine. She’s not hurt by that.

Vikings don’t get hurt.

On Friday, I decided to be sick.

And that was amazing. Just got Lagertha entirely cleaned. All of my second job student work graded. Prepped my hydration pack.

For Saturday’s Girls Gone Wild mountain adventure.

Where Beautiful Beastie and Tiny Brazilian started their adventure at 6am. On Cove Mountain.

And initially I thought the 6am start was my punishment for not going last weekend. But BB said I could meet them at 8am. For Jennings Creek. After they finished Cove Mountain.

I liked this plan.

But also, I hadn’t run more than 4.42 miles since December.

And I hadn’t run any of those miles on an actual mountain.

Definitely not on a 5,000 feet of climbing type of mountain.

So, I decided to start around 7:45. To get a head start. And maybe get a mile or two in before they caught me crawling. And crying. And begging to turn around and go back to my car.

But they were running behind.

So I was almost five miles in. And definitely nearing death.

But trying to make myself get another mile in.

Because I’ve got ultras and shit this spring.

And I can do hard things.

I can manage at least 12 miles on this mountain.

Hell, I was supposed to do 20.

Twelve is nothing.

And then BB texted.

Telling me to wait for them at the shelter.

The shelter was a mile behind me.

And that was all the permission I needed.

To turn my out of shape ass around. And head back to the shelter.

Fuck 12 miles. Ten is double digits. That’s sufficient.

Met them at the shelter. Where I stripped off a top layer and BB started taking off pants and shit.

While TB looked like she might ask to borrow them. To add more layers to what she was already wearing.

Because it was a beautiful day on the mountain.

And then we started climbing again.

Because Jennings Creek makes you climb. To get up the mountain. And also climb. To get back down.

So BB and I stripped off some more clothes.

Meanwhile, TB seemed to be looking for a scarf. To go with her gloves. And three sweatshirts. And headband. And winter tights.

Made it back to my car.

And home.

Where I treated myself to steak. And loaded mashed potatoes. And beer.

While watching my Hoosiers hand a victory over to Purdue. Which caused some March Madness level anxiety.

Spent the evening bingeing “Pieces of Her.” Which really just increased my anxiety even more.

So, today I get to do whatever I want.

Except sleep in.

Because Tony and Ezekiel are the chattiest couple of roosters I’ve ever encountered.

But they seem to have resolved their issue. For now.

Maybe they’ll let me nap today.

Also, Lagertha would like me to spend some time talking to Fat Fat about not lying in front of open windows like this…

She uses the word “embarrassed” a lot.

Leave a Reply