Marmaduke and Donkey Kong

The first weekend of no booze, no smokes, and no carbs went better than expected. I was super proud of myself resisting the urges. I woke up Sat. morning feeling refreshed and energized and ready to conquer the day.  It's turkey hunting season, so I am a hunting widow right now (meaning, on the weekends, the hubby is up and out of the house before the good sun even shows a crack of light, to go shoot some feathered bird which will in turn prove his manhood and he can therefore still be the king of the mountain. Just kidding honey! I like to hunt too, and I love it that he likes to hunt.) Since he was hoofing it in the wilderness all weekend, I decided that I need to step up my physical activity.  So, Puppy (that's Wyatt, we call him Wyatt and Puppy, don't know why) and I decided to go on another run. 

Remember, our 'first' run together (click on the link, and the story is at the bottom of the post) did not go all that well, so I decided to try again to see if we could do a better job this time.  Well....it kinda was a success. But have any of you read the comic Marmaduke? This is what we looked like:

Copyright: http://comics.com/marmaduke/

There we are, trotting along, getting warmed up, and after a half block or so, I say, "Ok, ready? Let's run." And BAM, Wyatt takes off on a dead sprint like he sees a squirrel in the next county and needs to get it in 0.2 seconds or all life on this planet will be obliterated.  I'm trailing behind him, trying to catch up, tripping over myself, visualizing doing a face-plant on the concrete and him dragging me 200 yards before he stops.  See, I wasn't just holding on to his leash handle, I had it wrapped around my wrist. Bad, bad, bad idea.  Luckily about 2 blocks into the sprint, he starts to slow down where I can actually catch up and run along beside him.  And we ran for .6 miles, walked a mile, ran .5 miles, and walked the rest of the way home, total: a 3 mile outing. Pretty good, I say.

I'm thinking after his stellar 'start' to the run, I should try to get him into some sort of racing thing. You know, where the dogs go round and round after a rabbit.  I mean, the start off the 'block' or out of the gate really has an impact on the whole race.  If it was just judged on the start and not the stamina, we'd make bank. I mean, serious cash would be flowing in. Ummm, something to think about, maybe I should have a sit down with Ryan about this.

Anyway, we got up and did the same thing on Sunday morning.  Same dead sprint take off, but this time I was more prepared, so I didn't look like the complete dumbass I did the day before.

Can I just tell you that my ENTIRE lower half is one sore SOB! My calves, hammies, ass, thighs, EVERYTHING! I even stretched before and after.  But it's the good sore; the 'I feel my muscles turning from flabby jello to ripped steel' kind of sore.  Which I kinda like. But hate when I have to haul my ass out of my desk chair.

Two workouts done this week, two more to meet my goal, and it's only Monday! I'm taking a break tonight because I've got photos to work on, but tomorrow evening its ON like donkey kong!  Hope the pup's ready.