Life. It Happens!

Hello World. Meet Sparky. Sparky is my parents dog. I don't know what that makes him to me. I consider him my dog too. Sparky is a small Labrador. He is 3 years old but his fur is still soft like puppy fur. This photo is terrible because Sparky doesn't sit still. He loves to run and play. He runs really, really fast. I mean really fast. Retrieving a ball is his passion. Nothing will stop him from retrieving the ball quickly.

There are liabilities to that, Sparky sliced open his paw on some glass in the woods. He was bleeding profusely and still begging for somebody to throw him the ball. He doesn't know when to quit. He refuses to stop, because of that he ended up in the time out chair.

Tim helped tape up his paw. He could have used a stitch but in a pinch duct tape did the job. Lately, I have been a little like Sparky. I tend to look  at the training log with no consideration for the rest of life's activity or the intensity of the activity. I don't get sick or injured very often. When I do I tend to deny it as long as possible. Ironman training has taught me to manage fatigue and discomfort well what can I say?  Usually  there is a  "but I haven't even done any real volume" whine from me and  an exasperating reply "It doesn't matter" from Tim. On that note, regarding the lack of training volume I so adore, Tim said "My heart bleeds for you." This makes me laugh. Tim works a lot more than me. The phone never rings at 4:55 a.m. telling him to stay home "on call".  No, it rings a 3:00 a.m. asking him to come in a take a look at somebody who might have compartment syndrome.

Monday evening, I  hit the deck after my run and came down with a fever. It was pretty miserable. This time I'll give the fever a little respect (but only this time;)  I'm starting to feel a lot better but I am taking a few days off from the swimbikerunyoga  routine as I don't want to miss out on more important fun times in the future. 

Maybe "forced rest" is a good thing. It makes you appreciate a lot of other things. After sitting around watching my garden grow I can guarantee I will not return to my bike feeling burned out. For now I can catch up on reading, blogging, and enjoy the view from the roof top deck.

The view is not bad. Maybe we should have a party.

 I have already mopped and polished the floors twice since we moved in. I tried to tell Tim maybe the floor polish was toxic and it caused the fever. He didn't buy it.

In a single man's house a wall like this is known as a "man cave". In our place it's dining with inspiration.

Is the treadmill a dreadmill? I doubt it.  This is for use before dark, after dark, or while on call, only. "People Magazine" accidentally was delivered to our place. I admit to not putting any effort finding it's rightful owner. I decadently enjoyed it from the treadmill. However, I should probably not admit this in cyberspace. I could be incriminating myself.