Five years ago, my Maid of Honor, who is slightly allergic to cats, stood with me, while I wept on the floor of an animal shelter for three hours. As her throat surely started to close, the decision came down to two brothers. If I would have lived in the house, and not the apartment we had at the time, I’m certain they both would have come home with me. I did get word that the brother I did not choose was later adopted.

We chose Domino.

Happy 5-Year Homerversary, Domino. I know I’m not your favorite parent, because I make you wear hats, but it’s because I love you.

He’s just about as close to perfect as a cat can get, I think. The trouble is that he knows this, and he does not let us forget this.

I’m also fairly certain he believes he is a person. When his favorite Person, Frank, “talks” to him, he answers. Every. Single. Time. 

It’s gotten to the point where I have anxiety issues when I want to sit next to Frank on the couch but Domino is in my spot. Because he will not be getting up. 

To say we “own” him is a huge mistake. It’s very clear that he is a part of our family, and we own him no more than we would “own” our future children.

So, to the night meows, making biscuits on our bellies, and head butts. To the blatant favoritism and screaming in the bathtub for someone to turn on the faucet. 

Here’s to you, handsome. Please let me sleep next to you tonight. It would be a privilege. 

Current Weight: 145.2
Last Week’s Weight: 148.8
GOAL A: 140 before wedding (2.6 per week)
GOAL B: 143 before wedding (1.2 per week)
GOAL C: Don’t Get Fat (0 per week)

I don’t know. Unless I’m currently on the fruit and water diet, I don’t see this happening.

I’m still sick. I don’t know if that has anything to do with me being up in weight or what, because I’ve been on TOP of it, and it’s still being weird.

So, I have 2 weeks to lose 5.2 pounds. Add that to the List Of Things That Will Never Happen.

Current Weight: 148.8
Weight Two Weeks Ago: 144.4
GOAL A: 140 before wedding (3 per week)
GOAL B: 143 before wedding (2 per week)
GOAL C: Don’t Get Fat (0 per week)

SHOULD have seen 143.6, and instead I see more than 5 pounds from that.

I’m guessing most of it is still water retention from the half (it normally takes until Wednesday/Thursday for it to go away), me being sick (yay sinuses), and this not being under the “same conditions,” as in, I didn’t do my normal Wednesday workout.

So, I have 3 weeks to lost 8.8 pounds, even if that’s not “real.” I doubt it’s happening, and it probably shouldn’t. It would be a little shocking. But, just for shits and giggles, I updated the goals above. Meh.

The problem with “vanity weight,” or weight my doctor doesn’t really care if I lose or not, is that there is no real urgency. I mean, I did pretty well. I had pizza on Sunday. But I also ran a half marathon. So. I feel like I’m not concerned.

It would have been nice to have hit a new adult low before the honeymoon, because I’m certain I will gain a billion pounds in Vegas, but it is what it is. Oh wells. Imma eat. Sorry ‘bout it.

Current Weight: 144.4
Weight Two Weeks Ago: 145.8
GOAL A: 140 before wedding (1.2 per week)
GOAL B: 143 before wedding (.4 per week)
GOAL C: Don’t Get Fat (0 per week)

Ok, so. I needed to lose 1.2 this week and I lost 1.4. Good. 

However, I always mess up when I get to 144.x. I just. Can’t do it.

So. We’ll see. Half marathon this weekend. Normally that means a gain next week anyway. Hoorah. And stuff. And I have to be up at 5am and not work out tomorrow because Frank has surgery for a weird lump thing on his back, and we’re supposedly not worried about it. But. I’m worried about it.

Oh, Just A Short Run. Otherwise known as the Race In Which I Did Not Understand Its Name Until After Getting Home And Putting On My Shorts From The Race.

That’s true. Well, partially true. Rosalita is not english-speaking, as she is of Latin dissent. How much she really understood is up in the air, however, as she has issues understanding basic life tasks, like “What Happens When A Door Is Closed And I Have To Get Out Of The Closet.” One would think you have a few options here, like Claw At The Door or Push The Door Open, or, as a last resort, Cry For Help. However, she just sits and accepts that she is stuck in a closet and will sit there for days until one of us is like “Where is the bowling-ball shaped cat we have, you know, the one of Latin dissent?” and another one goes “SHIT, FUCK, GODDAMN, I CLOSED THE CLOSET DOOR FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 8 MONTHS LAST WEEK, I BET SHE IS IN THERE.” Obviously the first person in this completely hypothetical conversation is Frank, as 1) he doesn’t swear, like ever, and 2) he doesn’t close closet doors either.

So, ANYWAY. It’s upon us. 2013 Half Marathon Season for one Ms. Stacey Caine. However, I have to point out that I will only run two halfs this year under that alias, as after June 1st, I’ll be Mrs. Stacey Purpura. I know you don’t know how to say it, I know you never will, but please don’t google it.

Now that most of you have googled it and had to bleach your eyeballs at the google images that came up under “Purpura,” I will continue on with my very exciting account of the Just A Short Run Half.

Right. It’s gonna be a good year.

So, like most of the Pittsburgh races I run, I made my friend Sandy Pance gather my race bib and bag (Sidenote: my race shorts had giant holes in both sides, but the good people of Elite Runners/Walkers mailed me a Men’s Small (roughly the equivalent of Women’s Medium) when I told them about it, so good on them for being super fantastic and not just saying “OH WELL TOO BAD” like they totally could have.) and I stayed with her.

When I got there, her small human greeted me at the door with a book. What was this? I was to read it. So, I did. But first, she gave me this:

I was told prior to arriving that I was GOING TO LOVE IT AND I WOULD BE SO HAPPY. Good call, small human. I WAS so happy and I DO love it. We blew some bubbles for their large cat, who remained unimpressed. Like. You do that to my cats and they go apeshit. This cat didn’t have the time of day. So. There was that.

So I read this ancient book to Elena that had words in it like “gay” meaning happy and I tried to act like that was normal, but it’s sort of not normal anymore. Then it was bedtime for her and Sitting Around time for Sandy and myself.

Because Ben was driving us the next day, we didn’t have to leave until like 7:45 am or some ridiculously (for a race day) late time, and I felt amazingly well-rested and ready to run that day. Like. That never happens. But ok.

We got there and got into line for the bathrooms instead of a porta-potty at the start and made it out just in time for some lady to snap our photo (WHERE IS THAT PHOTO, BY THE WAY? A PIECE OF MY SOUL IS OUT THERE SOMEWHERE.) and walk to the start, where the race had JUUUUUUST started. Since it was chip-timed, it was awesome, and I was warmed up from the walk over. Perfect.

Right.

So, here’s the thing with the Just A Short Run. There is a 5K (which Sandy and her fetus did), an 8.1 mile, a half, and a 30K. I think it’s a 30K. We’ll call it a 30K, no one cares. Anyway, in that first 5K, then, there are a lotta peeps. And there is a HUGE HILL. 

Sidenote: I just googled GIANT HILL for you, and this happened: Click it. I don’t even know, dude. I don’t even know.

My first three miles were:

10:44 (Dodging slower runners, since I started late)
9:56 (I THINK the hill is in this mile, so under 10:00 was somewhat exciting)
9:47

I had gone into this with one real goal, and that was to beat last year’s time (my knee was a little achy, and LAST year my knee was ALSO weird, so I felt that was ok) (2:27:49). 

So, I don’t know. I had internal dialog around this time which I’m sure you will find highly interesting.

Worrywart Stacey: We should slow down.
Crazypants Stacey: NO! I WANT TO RUN AND RUN!
Worrywart Stacey: No, really, we are going to probably be tired halfway through.
Crazypants Stacey: I DON’T CARE, LET’S JUST RUN!
Worrywart Stacey: What if you hurt your knee even worse?
Crazypants Stacey: WHAT KNEE? I FEEL GREAT! I WANT TO RUN REAL FAST!
Worrywart Stacey: You are impossible. Just, whatever. Do whatever.
Crazypants Stacey: RUNNNNNN!
Worrywart Stacey: Oh fuck it. Run.

So, I ran. The course is actually really nice after you get the nasty ass motherfucking hill out of the way. It’s rolling, and you do some loops of the park. I had great weather last year AND this year, too, so that helps. 

Miles 4-8:

9:58
10:05
9:47
9:56
9:36

At this point, as long as I was doing under 10, I was happy. I kept thinking MAYBE I would come close to a PR, but I still didn’t REALLY think I would. I also debated trying the NOT STOPPING FOR WATER thing. But boredom won out and I stopped once, at mile 9, for a Gu I really didn’t need and some water.

Miles 9-13:
10:19 (Water break)
9:36
9:32
9:41
9:04

Around Mile 10 or 11, I started realizing I MIGHT PR. And I put on my Running Pants. 

Sidenote: This is like my favorite picture of Rosalita EVER. I was in the bathtub. She was mortified.

I RAN LIKE THE WIND…Or. Like a medium-fast person. I saw Sandy cheering for me at the finish and I ran ran ran. When I crossed, I still wasn’t sure, But I THOUGHT. I THOUGHT I DID IT.

Here are my SUPER DUPER FLATTERING AS ALWAYS finish line photos.

And here are my Garmin Stats for the Geeks out there:

I KNOW THE HILL DOESN’T LOOK THAT BIG, BUT IT IS. JUST TRUST ME, IT IS.

Anyhow!!! GUYS! End time: 2:09:42 (9:54 pace)! A PR. On a tough course. Wowzers. I don’t know how I did it, but it felt really easy. I have my heart set on a sub-2:00 half someday, but I don’t know if this year is the year. HOPEFULLY.  But maybe not.

SO ANYWAY. Here is my race bling, and updated rack pictures (not THAT rack).

It would, yes. Note that it wasn’t until I got official word back did I move around the medals to reflect the PR one. So. This picture is sorta wrong, but I’m lazy.

So, then, afterwards, we played on the playground (I sat on the ground and stretched while Elena played on the playground), and Elena ran two “races,” then cried because her mean mom wouldn’t let her RACE. 

All the way back to the car, the poor kid cried, “I WANNA RACE!” until we got into the car, and she stopped, looked at me with a giant tear on her cheek, and said “CAN I HAVE THAT NANNA?” Yes. Of course you can have that nanna. So, I fed her the nanna and half of my bagel. 

The end.

Current Weight: 145.8
Weight Two Weeks Ago: 145.2
GOAL A: 140 before wedding (1.2 per week)
GOAL B: 143 before wedding (.6 per week)
GOAL C: Don’t Get Fat (0 per week)

Yeah. I just can’t care. It’s like. Before…I had so much weight to lose…so…I was motivated. I’m healthy now. My doctor is happy. I can’t be motivated to lose the last 5 vanity pounds.

That said, I owe it to myself to try. I want to get in a solid two weeks or so (although I’m eating big after the Pittsburgh Half Marathon because that’s how I do) and see where I’m at. The idea that I won’t make it much skinnier before the wedding is fine, I suppose. It just is what it is.