Good sore

I slacked on Saturday, after the wonder that was the Bluff Point race. Man, I really get jazzed when I run there, and to have it be a race, and to run it with two absolutely wonderful women! F’n a.

Missy and I woke up to the traditional Saturday morning pounce by the boys. I’ve learned to hear Jake coming down the stairs, so I’m usually opening my eyes about the time our door opens and 50 pounds of 7 year old comes flying through the air. Not really awake, but my eyes are opening.

Yesterday – wow, I really could have slept another hour. Missy kind of summed it up when she said “Y’know, I feel like I’m waking up after a party back in college, ‘cept without the headache.” But, workday at the church started at 0800 sharp (what kind of idi…. wait, wait, doing the Lord’s work…). I put in an electrical outlet and a phone jack, and then rebuilt our WordPress installation. Yep, I’m a plumber for the 21st century. Only smashed my thumb once with the pliers while stripping wire, and I managed to turn my “Oh, F…” into “Our Father…”

This afternoon? Family swim and a quick run back to the house.

Nate destructed Saturday morning at swimming lessons. Didn’t want anything to do with the pool AT ALL. Not quite the wailing and rolling on the floor, but close. I finally coaxed him to the edge of the pool, and his instructor grabbed him and pulled him in before he knew what was going on. After a minute or so, he was fine. This afternoon, though, I managed to get Nate swimming with just the “bubble”, or floaty thing on a web belt. He didn’t even need to hold on to the floaty-dumbell thing. Small triumphs.

The run back through town – the best part, I think, is that I did it. I’ve still been getting discomfort in my ankle, but, since I moved to running more on my toes, I think it’s getting better, and is now just soreness. Six months of heel striking really screwed things up, I think.

Oh, and in the interest of full disclosure – Cow Hill beat me today, Warren. Just couldn’t quite make it up and over without walking for a couple of minutes.

So, to borrow a phrase, it’s a beautiful life. Go congratulate Mark on a smokin’ performance at the Red Moose marathon up there in Canadia.