Such a nice idea, in theory

As soon as we adopted Jada I couldn't wait to take her running with me. I'd had all these fantasies about how cool it would be to do my long runs with a loyal companion happily padding along at my side while I whined and snarfled and chugged my way along.

People would walk by and think "Isn't that cute. I would run if we had a dog that great. I would be in great shape like that, too - and also as beautiful at 6am". Things would be perfect, if not a little delusional.

I've taken Jada running with me a handful of times in the last month. We've had no less than two disastrous situations during each run. Everything from frisky squirrels darting out from between the fence posts to lingering aromas around the dog groomer that caused her to go from Obedient Cheerful Running Partner to Erratic Lunging Droolbeast without more than one half a seconds notice.

The longer the runs, though, the better her behavior. I attribute this, at least initially, to my early morning charisma and fabulously effective training methods. But, of course, it's just because by mile 4 she is tired (as am I) and she has less energy with which to haul my ass down a driveway toward a taunting cat (friggen cats).

Then last week I took her out on a run, and to no fault of hers, I managed an injury that has kept me out of my running shoes since. I think my foot fell crooked onto a manhole cover or something. Either way, I managed to pull a muscle in my shin meat (what is that front muscle called anyway? We just call it shin meat at our house. Like the meat in McDonald's hamburgers. You know.) and spent the whole of last week hobbling around searching for the heating pad and the other bottle of Advil.

This week the lack of running is getting to me, especially since I have officially signed up for the aforementioned half marathon and know that I'll be starting some beefy training later this summer. I'm a little worried that if I don't keep up at least a regular, but relatively low mileage, running schedule that I'll get to July and croak when I try to bang out a fiver.

I'm not even thinking about how hot it'll be when my training starts. Last year it got up to 109 in July, and that's just no time to be trotting around for 7-10 miles at a time. Really, it's no time to be doing anything that involves moving unless you're doing so in the direction of a very big air conditioner or icy cool swimming pool. Two things we don't have.

Anyway, my goal is to get some regular mileage back under my belt starting next week so that I, at least, don't shrivel up and die throwing myself back into a normal training schedule in July.

It'll also give me some time to contemplate my other athletic conundrums such as how much my ass *really* jiggles when I'm running, whether my sports bra is turning orange from having my self-tanner sweated all over it and if I'd look cooler with a headband holding my head whiskers down rather than having them whimsically whipping around my temples.

This is when having the dog along comes in handy. It's easier to sort out a dog/squirrel lovefest than it is to come to terms with ass wobble.