Dear Wal,
I just had one of the best weekends of my life. It was fun, to say the least, and I completely blew my last time for this course out of the water. It was awesome.
The whole day Friday I was on-edge. I couldn't even recite a line from Doctor Who that I memorized for extra credit in English class (yes, my English teacher lets me use Doctor Who for extra credit). Although, I was somewhat on the spot because I got to school at 9:30. The farrier came that morning. I had to finish cleaning the Pout House. It was a busy morning. Anyway, I didn't have any work to do that day so I just meandered around on Youtube and vaguely tried to help with the yard sale. We're raising money for a camping trip the weekend after next.
Anyway, Coach Peoples finally came with the bus to pick me up, and off we went on a four hour ride to Greensboro. Talk about long and boring. I forgot my Kindle, so I didn't have anything to do. However, I brought all of my various notebooks and pens (I always do, wherever I go-I feel lost if I don't have a notebook with me at all times). I wrote for a while on the latest installment of my Batman fanfiction. It has Batman in it. And the future. And the apocalypse. Oh yes. (My new style of writing for the fanfiction is working. Woot!) However, when you ride on a bus with a bunch of highschoolers for four hours it can get pretty insane. For instance.
A bunch of people started a massage train across two of the seats. Every time someone fell asleep, they inevitably were sat on or poked or something. No one messed with me, because I'm the weirdo who goes to the VEC and never says anything. One of the reasons I don't talk to the people on the team very much is that it's far more amusing to just listen to them. Some of the craziest things happen around the cross country team.
Imagine a bunch of race horses cooped up in a dry lot all day and then set loose in a hotel, and you've got the idea.
When we reached the hotel, we goofed off in the hall for a while and then were chased into a room by Coach Peoples. We started a game of truth or dare (don't worry, the worst dare was that someone had to lick the floor). It was hysterical. I learned that I fail at dares, and I don't have any deep dark secrets to reveal..so I basically just sat there and watched the rest of the team goofing off. We were going to run the course the night before, but it was thundering and pouring down rain. Last year it was an absolute monsoon, during the actual race. It was awful.
The next morning we all piled into the bus again to go to the race, bleary eyed and groggy, and then we ran. It was awesome. It was drizzling, but not so much that you couldn't see where you were going. It was muddy, but it wasn't like running through a lake like it was last year. I didn't PR (get a personal record) but I kept up my time from my last race. I was absolutely covered in mud by the end of it. I think my shoes are going to be wet for the next three days.
Jacob, (the fastest on the team) fell and did something to his leg. No word yet on exactly what he did, but hopefully he'll still be able to run. Eli slid and fell in the mud, but he came out okay even though he was absolutely caked in mud.
Again, we all piled onto the bus. We stopped at a buffet on the way back and ate copious amounts of food. After everyone was fed, we all crashed. Everyone, except me, was stretched across the seats sleeping. The bus was absolutely silent for a few hours at least. I finally succumbed and curled up in my seat and went to sleep. We arrived home dry and safe. My parents came and picked me up, and we went to the Brick for dinner. I had a garlic knot. The buffet still hasn't worn off yet.
/endrant
P.S. In the near future, Jason may finally get a real, complete story. (Don't listen to me. I'm probably lying.)
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Story Time (Late...)
Dear Wal,
My horse show was last week, I know, I know. I put things off. I got distracted. I got extremely busy. Very busy. Cross country, horse back riding, writing and school makes my life highly complicated and leaves me very little excess time for things like blog posts. Jason, Tom and the rest are much more urgent...sorry.
Anyway, on to the story.
First of all, everything was made so much easier by Lynn and Dania, my instructors at Transitions. They cleaned up Buzzy, helped me calm him down and coached me on the sidelines. It would have been much more hectic and difficult without them their to help.
I rode in three gaited classes, and did a halter class. In one of the gaited classes, there were only two riders including Buzzy and I, and in another one their were only three. It was a pretty small affair, but there were still a lot of people who showed up. The classes were fairly small, at least I thought they were. Who am I to say? I've never been to an actual horse show before this one. Anyway, obviously in those two classes I won second and third, but in the other gaited class and the halter class I actually came in the ranking before other people. There were at least fifteen people in the halter class, one of whom had a Friesian. No competition. Buzzy may be just as black...but he can't compete with the flash of a Friesian. Anyway, we won a sixth place ribbon in that class. In the last gaited class I came in third over some Paso Fino horses. They were ridden by some very nice ladies. I think they were all in a riding group or something. I need to find a group of people to ride with, but...there are very few people with Walkers who use natural horsemanship with their horses. I think it's catching on, though. People who ride Walkers are finally starting to realize how crazy their horses really are, on the inside, and what that can lead to. Trust me, I've lived it.
Anyway, Buzzy was completely freaked out, and so was I. Well...I was freaked out, and so he was as well. We had fun anyway, and when I got home I completely crashed. I tried to put one of the ribbons on his bridle in victory and he was all like: D8 WHAT IS THIS THING ON MY FAAACE.
Once again, I have no pictures because of the usual reason: my father. I really need to get better at getting to the camera before he does.
/endrant
P.S. I'm going to Greensboro tomorrow for a meet. Hopefully it won't pour like it did last time.
My horse show was last week, I know, I know. I put things off. I got distracted. I got extremely busy. Very busy. Cross country, horse back riding, writing and school makes my life highly complicated and leaves me very little excess time for things like blog posts. Jason, Tom and the rest are much more urgent...sorry.
Anyway, on to the story.
First of all, everything was made so much easier by Lynn and Dania, my instructors at Transitions. They cleaned up Buzzy, helped me calm him down and coached me on the sidelines. It would have been much more hectic and difficult without them their to help.
I rode in three gaited classes, and did a halter class. In one of the gaited classes, there were only two riders including Buzzy and I, and in another one their were only three. It was a pretty small affair, but there were still a lot of people who showed up. The classes were fairly small, at least I thought they were. Who am I to say? I've never been to an actual horse show before this one. Anyway, obviously in those two classes I won second and third, but in the other gaited class and the halter class I actually came in the ranking before other people. There were at least fifteen people in the halter class, one of whom had a Friesian. No competition. Buzzy may be just as black...but he can't compete with the flash of a Friesian. Anyway, we won a sixth place ribbon in that class. In the last gaited class I came in third over some Paso Fino horses. They were ridden by some very nice ladies. I think they were all in a riding group or something. I need to find a group of people to ride with, but...there are very few people with Walkers who use natural horsemanship with their horses. I think it's catching on, though. People who ride Walkers are finally starting to realize how crazy their horses really are, on the inside, and what that can lead to. Trust me, I've lived it.
Anyway, Buzzy was completely freaked out, and so was I. Well...I was freaked out, and so he was as well. We had fun anyway, and when I got home I completely crashed. I tried to put one of the ribbons on his bridle in victory and he was all like: D8 WHAT IS THIS THING ON MY FAAACE.
Once again, I have no pictures because of the usual reason: my father. I really need to get better at getting to the camera before he does.
/endrant
P.S. I'm going to Greensboro tomorrow for a meet. Hopefully it won't pour like it did last time.
Friday, September 21, 2012
I May or May Not Die Tomorrow
Dear Wal,
I'm sorry my posts have been so splotchy lately. My life is splotchy.
Back on subject.
Why could I die tomorrow? The answer is quite elementary, my dear Watson. I've decided to take Buzzy to a horse show. Buzzy, who is obsessed with plastic. Buzzy, who is afraid of suspicious looking trunks and storm drains. Buzzy, who is fascinated with mules (I need to tell that story someday...)
Hopefully, this experience will be constructive and fun and ridiculous (at first I typed...ridididiculous *sigh*) and not a horribly-scared-for-life kind of experience. Both of my instructors are coming, and my parents...and so I won't be freaking out and totally alone. Plus, Buzzy and I have come through like champs in this kind of environment before. My 4-H camp experience this year was actually fun, instead of traumatizing and depressing like all the previous years, largely because I actually knew what I was doing for once. I wasn't the idiot who can't swim floundering around in the deep end. Don't let people tell you it's a good idea to just throw people who can't swim in the water. You have to teach them to float on their backs first...or else they might die. Anyway.
Tonight I did all of my show preparations, not entirely unlike my camp preparations, except that they would have started three days earlier. Unfortunately, school makes that impossible or near-impossible. It's times like these I wish I was Kryptonian. I would have been finished two hours ago. Anyway, I foolishly didn't wash Buzzy first and instead did everything else first, so that I was finishing up his clipping and giving him a bath in near-darkness. Florescent lights just don't measure up to a sunny day with horses. It just doesn't work. Another problem I had was that I had never clipped a horse, ever. In my entire life. I wish there was really a collective human consciousness, because then I could have sucked clipping skills out of someone's brain. Let me just say I did a really bad job, especially on his ears. Whoever came up with the idea to shave all the fuzz out of a horse's ear obviously never owned a horse in his entire life. Maybe he had a fake horse, that wasn't afraid of large buzzing things in its ears. (Maybe it was a robot horse...haha) Honestly, I can't blame them. I wouldn't want someone shaving the insides of my ears, if I had fuzz on the inside of my ears. Which I don't.
Anyway, it looks kinda bad...but who cares? I'll be too busy concentrating on keeping both of us emotionally sound to care about what his ears look like. I know all I really have to do is get him into a nice gait in order to got people looking at him. He's amazing.
Dad is going to take lots of pictures...but I don't know when I'll get them from him, so I may end up posting the followup to this post tomorrow with no pictures. So. Sad.
/endrant
P.S. I have kindle minecraft. Fear me.
I'm sorry my posts have been so splotchy lately. My life is splotchy.
Back on subject.
Why could I die tomorrow? The answer is quite elementary, my dear Watson. I've decided to take Buzzy to a horse show. Buzzy, who is obsessed with plastic. Buzzy, who is afraid of suspicious looking trunks and storm drains. Buzzy, who is fascinated with mules (I need to tell that story someday...)
Hopefully, this experience will be constructive and fun and ridiculous (at first I typed...ridididiculous *sigh*) and not a horribly-scared-for-life kind of experience. Both of my instructors are coming, and my parents...and so I won't be freaking out and totally alone. Plus, Buzzy and I have come through like champs in this kind of environment before. My 4-H camp experience this year was actually fun, instead of traumatizing and depressing like all the previous years, largely because I actually knew what I was doing for once. I wasn't the idiot who can't swim floundering around in the deep end. Don't let people tell you it's a good idea to just throw people who can't swim in the water. You have to teach them to float on their backs first...or else they might die. Anyway.
Tonight I did all of my show preparations, not entirely unlike my camp preparations, except that they would have started three days earlier. Unfortunately, school makes that impossible or near-impossible. It's times like these I wish I was Kryptonian. I would have been finished two hours ago. Anyway, I foolishly didn't wash Buzzy first and instead did everything else first, so that I was finishing up his clipping and giving him a bath in near-darkness. Florescent lights just don't measure up to a sunny day with horses. It just doesn't work. Another problem I had was that I had never clipped a horse, ever. In my entire life. I wish there was really a collective human consciousness, because then I could have sucked clipping skills out of someone's brain. Let me just say I did a really bad job, especially on his ears. Whoever came up with the idea to shave all the fuzz out of a horse's ear obviously never owned a horse in his entire life. Maybe he had a fake horse, that wasn't afraid of large buzzing things in its ears. (Maybe it was a robot horse...haha) Honestly, I can't blame them. I wouldn't want someone shaving the insides of my ears, if I had fuzz on the inside of my ears. Which I don't.
Anyway, it looks kinda bad...but who cares? I'll be too busy concentrating on keeping both of us emotionally sound to care about what his ears look like. I know all I really have to do is get him into a nice gait in order to got people looking at him. He's amazing.
Dad is going to take lots of pictures...but I don't know when I'll get them from him, so I may end up posting the followup to this post tomorrow with no pictures. So. Sad.
/endrant
P.S. I have kindle minecraft. Fear me.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Art Reboot
Dear Wal,
No, I'm not talking about rebooting this blog. It's only been around for a year, and if I've learned anything from the New 52, it's that reboots are a bad idea. What I mean by rebooting, is that I'm rebooting several things I've been either trying to work on, or just started and never finished, or that I used to do and don't do anymore. Case in point, drawing. I haven't finished a single picture in about a year. My deviantart account is sorely neglected. I used to draw all the time-mostly horses, because...well, I own two horses. It's kind of natural that I would want to draw them, and plus I've been around horses since I was brought into the world.
My sister, Janine, is an official artist-if there is such a thing. She went to school for art-her stuff is amazing. She does all kinds of things-pottery, charcoal, oil paintings, book binding. We have a few of her paintings hanging (literally, haha...I'm funny) around the house, and she made a few books and pieces of pottery for us. The cup she made for Dad is his most favorite thing in the entire universe.
Books she made:
(c) Janine Paris, by the way
Anyway, we are a very artistic family. I'm nowhere as skilled as Janine, but I can draw an anatomically correct horse like a boss. Next on my list is being able to draw an anatomically correct superhero. You've probably seen my pitiful attempts at doing this. I kind of...suck at drawing superheroes. However, I'm picking it up faster than I picked up drawing horses. I had to develop a lot of skills in order to draw horses that I didn't have, like how to use the tools available to me: pencils, pencils, and more pencils, and how to develop a drawing from a sketch... Drawing, like writing and pretty much everything else that I do, is not as simple as it looks. I have all those skills now, which makes learning to draw something a lot easier.
Where is all this leading? I seem to have lost my point somewhere in my rambling.
I decided this weekend that I was going to start drawing more superheroes. I.e., doing at least two pictures (however terrible) a week. That probably isn't going to happen, but at least it will get me more into the habit of drawing again. Here is my first attempt, with a brand-new sketchbook:
Unfortunately, you can't see him very well because my scanner doesn't pick up the pencil very well on this paper. It's special marker paper. It makes me happy. This picture is probably going to have several different versions of itself posted.
/endrant
P.S. I'm writing this at school. I'm so bad.
No, I'm not talking about rebooting this blog. It's only been around for a year, and if I've learned anything from the New 52, it's that reboots are a bad idea. What I mean by rebooting, is that I'm rebooting several things I've been either trying to work on, or just started and never finished, or that I used to do and don't do anymore. Case in point, drawing. I haven't finished a single picture in about a year. My deviantart account is sorely neglected. I used to draw all the time-mostly horses, because...well, I own two horses. It's kind of natural that I would want to draw them, and plus I've been around horses since I was brought into the world.
My sister, Janine, is an official artist-if there is such a thing. She went to school for art-her stuff is amazing. She does all kinds of things-pottery, charcoal, oil paintings, book binding. We have a few of her paintings hanging (literally, haha...I'm funny) around the house, and she made a few books and pieces of pottery for us. The cup she made for Dad is his most favorite thing in the entire universe.
Books she made:
Dad's favorite cup:
(c) Janine Paris, by the way
Anyway, we are a very artistic family. I'm nowhere as skilled as Janine, but I can draw an anatomically correct horse like a boss. Next on my list is being able to draw an anatomically correct superhero. You've probably seen my pitiful attempts at doing this. I kind of...suck at drawing superheroes. However, I'm picking it up faster than I picked up drawing horses. I had to develop a lot of skills in order to draw horses that I didn't have, like how to use the tools available to me: pencils, pencils, and more pencils, and how to develop a drawing from a sketch... Drawing, like writing and pretty much everything else that I do, is not as simple as it looks. I have all those skills now, which makes learning to draw something a lot easier.
Where is all this leading? I seem to have lost my point somewhere in my rambling.
I decided this weekend that I was going to start drawing more superheroes. I.e., doing at least two pictures (however terrible) a week. That probably isn't going to happen, but at least it will get me more into the habit of drawing again. Here is my first attempt, with a brand-new sketchbook:
Unfortunately, you can't see him very well because my scanner doesn't pick up the pencil very well on this paper. It's special marker paper. It makes me happy. This picture is probably going to have several different versions of itself posted.
/endrant
P.S. I'm writing this at school. I'm so bad.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Running Adventures
Dear Wal,
I've finally figured something out that I've always frustrated over. On my cross country team, none of the coaches ever give directions for where we're supposed to run once we get to the course. It's always just "Okay guys, go run four miles! Bye!" I sit there thinking Where?! D8 I'm not fast enough to keep up with all the older kids who know where they're going, and I'm the oldest of the younger kids. So they assume that I know where I'm going, when really half the time I don't have a clue. It's getting better, because this is now my second year so I'm starting to understand where all the courses go from all the bits and pieces of directions I managed to put together from frustrated coaches.
Anyway, I've never understood why they won't just tell us exactly what we're supposed to do. They just leave us and expect us to know. While riding in the activity bus yesterday and watching some middle school kids complain about getting lost, I finally understood why. It's an initiation ritual. You have to get lost the first four or five days of practice and then still stick with the team to prove your worth.
But it sucks.
I get confused too easily with directions, and when I have no clue what I'm supposed to do, then I get even more horribly confused. This sports business doesn't come naturally to me. Most of what we do makes no sense to me at all. Not giving the team directions, especially.
For the most part, there are two parts to the highschool team: the fast kids, and me and the slow kids. The fast people all hang out together, and the slow people all hang out together. Last year, it was just me in the slow group. Most of the time I had to run by myself, but now I actually have people to run with. The problem is, now I'm getting faster but I'm not fast enough to keep up with the fast people, and I'm too fast for the slow people. So, in effect, I'm running by myself again. I don't really mind. Running has become my quiet time.
However, yesterday was not quiet. First of all, I was guiding the slow people on the big loop around fence (which I thought I knew, after nearly becoming lost the first time) but it turned out that I wasn't going the right way. Then when we got halfway up the trail we were actually supposed to be on, we found a couple of the guys stopped on the trail. Turns out they found I giant hornet's nest. They were considering running through it, and so way I because I wasn't tired yet and I thought maybe I could make it. However, one of the girls I was running with was deathly allergic to bees, so I was a good teammate and went back with her (she didn't get stung: don't worry) and the other slow people to make sure they didn't get lost. On the way back down the trail, I tripped over a rock and went flying. Skinned everything up like crazy.
And guess what, I did this last year too, but at a different course. What happened then was that I turned my ankle off the side of a paved road and went down on my knee. I learned to run well to the right of the edge after that. Yesterday we were running on really rocky trails, which usually I don't have any problems with. I live practically in the middle of a forest, and our trails are all rocky and uneven. I've been seasoned to that kind of terrain, so for the most part I can trust my feet. Apparently not when preoccupied with a hornet's nest.
Anyway, it was a very exciting day.
/endrant
P.S. Thoughts I think when running:
Every time I pass a speed limit sign: Don't speed Kathryn!
When I'm almost finished with the course: Almost home E.T.!
I've finally figured something out that I've always frustrated over. On my cross country team, none of the coaches ever give directions for where we're supposed to run once we get to the course. It's always just "Okay guys, go run four miles! Bye!" I sit there thinking Where?! D8 I'm not fast enough to keep up with all the older kids who know where they're going, and I'm the oldest of the younger kids. So they assume that I know where I'm going, when really half the time I don't have a clue. It's getting better, because this is now my second year so I'm starting to understand where all the courses go from all the bits and pieces of directions I managed to put together from frustrated coaches.
Anyway, I've never understood why they won't just tell us exactly what we're supposed to do. They just leave us and expect us to know. While riding in the activity bus yesterday and watching some middle school kids complain about getting lost, I finally understood why. It's an initiation ritual. You have to get lost the first four or five days of practice and then still stick with the team to prove your worth.
But it sucks.
I get confused too easily with directions, and when I have no clue what I'm supposed to do, then I get even more horribly confused. This sports business doesn't come naturally to me. Most of what we do makes no sense to me at all. Not giving the team directions, especially.
For the most part, there are two parts to the highschool team: the fast kids, and me and the slow kids. The fast people all hang out together, and the slow people all hang out together. Last year, it was just me in the slow group. Most of the time I had to run by myself, but now I actually have people to run with. The problem is, now I'm getting faster but I'm not fast enough to keep up with the fast people, and I'm too fast for the slow people. So, in effect, I'm running by myself again. I don't really mind. Running has become my quiet time.
However, yesterday was not quiet. First of all, I was guiding the slow people on the big loop around fence (which I thought I knew, after nearly becoming lost the first time) but it turned out that I wasn't going the right way. Then when we got halfway up the trail we were actually supposed to be on, we found a couple of the guys stopped on the trail. Turns out they found I giant hornet's nest. They were considering running through it, and so way I because I wasn't tired yet and I thought maybe I could make it. However, one of the girls I was running with was deathly allergic to bees, so I was a good teammate and went back with her (she didn't get stung: don't worry) and the other slow people to make sure they didn't get lost. On the way back down the trail, I tripped over a rock and went flying. Skinned everything up like crazy.
And guess what, I did this last year too, but at a different course. What happened then was that I turned my ankle off the side of a paved road and went down on my knee. I learned to run well to the right of the edge after that. Yesterday we were running on really rocky trails, which usually I don't have any problems with. I live practically in the middle of a forest, and our trails are all rocky and uneven. I've been seasoned to that kind of terrain, so for the most part I can trust my feet. Apparently not when preoccupied with a hornet's nest.
Anyway, it was a very exciting day.
/endrant
P.S. Thoughts I think when running:
Every time I pass a speed limit sign: Don't speed Kathryn!
When I'm almost finished with the course: Almost home E.T.!
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
My Labor Day Weekend
Dear Wal,
It sucked in some ways and was awesome in others. For instance, some madman scheduled a meet in Spartenburge on a day when it was about 90 degrees at ten in the morning. My race happened to start at ten. The rest of the team was fine, because they live down in the 'flatlands' of the county where it's always hot. However, I live up in the mountains where it's usually about ten degrees cooler and a few thousand feet higher. I never do well in hot weather, doesn't matter where or when or what I'm doing.
Running in 90 degree weather was not fun.
I drank about five bottles of water, but that didn't help me much because it was just so hot. My body just gave up. I walked about a mile in the middle of the race. I wasn't going to be the person who threw up at the finish line from the heat. I'm not an idiot. After about a mile, I knew I wasn't going to even be able to keep up my normal pace. My muscles were not working out all the little stiff places and twinges I always get in the first half mile, and I felt like I was being baked alive in the sun.
When I finally got back (that had to be the longest race I've ever run in my entire life) Coach Peoples poured water over me and felt my forehead. I was seriously out of it. I just crashed next to the case of water for twenty minutes or so after I finished running. It would have been better if I had been able to run the course at full speed, but I just couldn't. This is me we're talking about, The One Who Never Stops Running. I may go really slow, but I don't stop jogging for anything. If I start walking, I stay that way, so I've learned to just keep going.
After the race was over we went to Olive Garden, which was nice because you can order lots of food, including a giant salad. Watson frequently accuses me of being a rabbit. I like salad, what can I say? Back to the story. My parents and I were amazed about Spartenburge, because you can find anything and there are so many options. There's a mall. There isn't even a mall in the town that counts as a 'city' compared to the town I live in. There's also a comic book store. We went there. I think I got about $25 worth of comics: Stormwatch #1-6, Earth 2 #1-2 and Smallville Season 11 #1. Yes, I got season eleven and I haven't seen season ten yet. It's not that big of a deal. Smallville is pretty predictable. There were very few things that surprised me in seasons one through nine.
After that we went to the mall, and my father sent me on a mission to get jelly beans. I got said jelly beans, but found myself abandoned in the middle of a strange mall. I knew they were going to be in Dillards, so I went and sat on a bench in front of Dillards and watched people walk around. I must've been a sight, in my warm up running clothes and with a bag of jelly beans and a Stormwatch comic book. My mother eventually came out and rescued me. When we got into Dillards, I discovered that my parents had bought an entire set of dishes and silverware. Sigh.
On Sunday, I cleaned the house. A lot. I re-arranged my room and cleaned out my closet, which took almost all day, and then realized that I didn't have my history book. And that meant that I couldn't do the assignments that were due that night. So, in a panic, I called Watson and we converged at McDonalds to study for history. We got everything done in two hours, like a boss.
Monday comes around, and I'm finally looking forward to getting the opportunity to relax. We took Watson home and then went over to Transitions so I could ride in the arena, just to practice. I ended up being out there for three hours, doing nothing but riding. I was very hungry by the end of it. I could've eaten a horse. (Ha..haha...see what I did there..)
/endrant
It sucked in some ways and was awesome in others. For instance, some madman scheduled a meet in Spartenburge on a day when it was about 90 degrees at ten in the morning. My race happened to start at ten. The rest of the team was fine, because they live down in the 'flatlands' of the county where it's always hot. However, I live up in the mountains where it's usually about ten degrees cooler and a few thousand feet higher. I never do well in hot weather, doesn't matter where or when or what I'm doing.
Running in 90 degree weather was not fun.
I drank about five bottles of water, but that didn't help me much because it was just so hot. My body just gave up. I walked about a mile in the middle of the race. I wasn't going to be the person who threw up at the finish line from the heat. I'm not an idiot. After about a mile, I knew I wasn't going to even be able to keep up my normal pace. My muscles were not working out all the little stiff places and twinges I always get in the first half mile, and I felt like I was being baked alive in the sun.
When I finally got back (that had to be the longest race I've ever run in my entire life) Coach Peoples poured water over me and felt my forehead. I was seriously out of it. I just crashed next to the case of water for twenty minutes or so after I finished running. It would have been better if I had been able to run the course at full speed, but I just couldn't. This is me we're talking about, The One Who Never Stops Running. I may go really slow, but I don't stop jogging for anything. If I start walking, I stay that way, so I've learned to just keep going.
After the race was over we went to Olive Garden, which was nice because you can order lots of food, including a giant salad. Watson frequently accuses me of being a rabbit. I like salad, what can I say? Back to the story. My parents and I were amazed about Spartenburge, because you can find anything and there are so many options. There's a mall. There isn't even a mall in the town that counts as a 'city' compared to the town I live in. There's also a comic book store. We went there. I think I got about $25 worth of comics: Stormwatch #1-6, Earth 2 #1-2 and Smallville Season 11 #1. Yes, I got season eleven and I haven't seen season ten yet. It's not that big of a deal. Smallville is pretty predictable. There were very few things that surprised me in seasons one through nine.
After that we went to the mall, and my father sent me on a mission to get jelly beans. I got said jelly beans, but found myself abandoned in the middle of a strange mall. I knew they were going to be in Dillards, so I went and sat on a bench in front of Dillards and watched people walk around. I must've been a sight, in my warm up running clothes and with a bag of jelly beans and a Stormwatch comic book. My mother eventually came out and rescued me. When we got into Dillards, I discovered that my parents had bought an entire set of dishes and silverware. Sigh.
On Sunday, I cleaned the house. A lot. I re-arranged my room and cleaned out my closet, which took almost all day, and then realized that I didn't have my history book. And that meant that I couldn't do the assignments that were due that night. So, in a panic, I called Watson and we converged at McDonalds to study for history. We got everything done in two hours, like a boss.
Monday comes around, and I'm finally looking forward to getting the opportunity to relax. We took Watson home and then went over to Transitions so I could ride in the arena, just to practice. I ended up being out there for three hours, doing nothing but riding. I was very hungry by the end of it. I could've eaten a horse. (Ha..haha...see what I did there..)
/endrant
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)