I have had my fill of frustration over the past few days. Willow is cutting the last of her adult teeth and rather then focus on chewing, she’s decided to make an attempt to become pack leader of the house.
Dakota finally had enough this morning and tossed her around a bit in the backyard. No, we weren’t irresponsible and let it happen. Both Joe and I supervised as they ‘played’ and when it got to be too much, we removed one of them from the situation. Neither of them were hurt, but it became apparent through the growling and sneering that it wasn’t playtime anymore.
Willow and I have been struggling all week. I apply too many human emotions to our fights, and it gets me in trouble. I feel bad disciplining her. I want her to trust me, and want to be around me, and I’m terrified that if I do the wrong thing, we’ll lose the connection forever.
Each night this week we’ve been through a similar routine. I release her from her crate, she bounds for the back slider, but won’t go out until I step out with her. She jumps all over me for a few minutes while I try to body block.
Things get tricky once they’ve devoured their dinners. I have to keep her entertained or she’ll destroy the house. Part of keeping her entertained turns into her trying to bark as loud as she can. With decibels pushing past that of a vacuum, bearing her relentless shouting is one of the most annoying things of the event. I can’t yell back or it will turn into a game. All I can do is pretend it doesn’t bother me. I keep dipping into the patience reserve. And I think I’m to the point where my patience needs a bail out.
Besides her tirade of Ann Coulter like proportions, Willow likes to pretend she’s a police dog and I’m the criminal she’s going to take down. Keep in mind, I NEVER encourage mouthy behavior. I’ve been diligent about making this behavior stop, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t try. The behavior bothers me of course, but more frustrating then a 7 month old puppy hanging on my arm is the fact that everyone is a critic. If I hear one more antidote I may bare my teeth and lunge.
What people don’t understand is I am trying my best, and the last thing I need is another person pointing out the obvious. My favorite so far was a comment along the lines of “you better fix that soon or else you won’t be able to have her around babies.” One, it’s a work in progress, only time will tell how soon she gets it. Two, assigning a deadline is so unreasonable. Forget the fact that babies are a far off ideal. I can’t say, “Willow, by Wednesday at Noon, I need you to stop this habit forever.”
The weekend can’t come fast enough. Both Joe and I will be gone on Saturday, work and baby shower respectively. But at least I can find comfort in the fact that weekends are special for the pups. They get to spend more time running and playing, and I get to relax once they’re good and tired.
Activity for the pups this weekend – Nice long walk on Sunday
Activity for me – Hopefully a nice long run before their nice long walk.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
A Second Life - Runner's World Mag
The train ride to work today was different. I put down the crackberry, and buried myself in an article from Runner's World magazine, March. Author Charles Butler captured the amazing journey of Matt Long and his goal to run a marathon after a devasting accident. Tears welled up as I read about a New York Firefighter and triathlete who had nearly been killed by a bus during the illegal transportation strike of 2005.
I won't reveal the story so you can gleam your own meaning from it. But for me it is inspirational to say the least. It's encouraging to read that people who face many more challenges then myself can still accomplish miraculous things.
Finding the motivation to accomplish the little goals I've set has been nothing short of difficult. Work seems to be the only reason I get out of bed in the morning. I like my job, and I'd prefer to keep it. Especially during such an economic downturn.
There are several other goals I have for this year, but I just can't seem to focus on them. I'd love to have Willow trained by summer. It would be great to be able to host parties and have guests over again. Sure I take her to class once a week, but it's not enough. It's my goal to work with her for at least 30 minutes a day. We'll just say I'm about 5 days a week shy of that goal.
My other little goal is to keep the house cleaner throughout the week, so that I don't have to have a marathon cleaning day on Saturday. Again, I'm falling short of that goal. Our spare bedroom is one heaping pile of laundry. Clean laundry. I just need to find the time to fold it, and put it away.
The big goal this year is June 28th, a half marathon. Every time I think about it, and how I am behind in the training plan I set forth, I start to hiccup. On Sunday I think I had the hiccups seven times before going to bed with them. For me running has always been something I dared to try. I never expected to run races, or be competitive, but after getting to the 3 mile mark, I wanted to go further, and faster. I've run in a 5 mile race, and I've run up to 6 miles on my own. But I can't seem to get past those numbers. So I started 2009 with this ideal of running (without walking) 13.1 miles at the Fairfield Half Marathon.
We're now two months into 'the new year' I haven't focused on training my dogs, or myself. I've been really hard on myself for it too. I'm one big stressball because nothing is the way I want it to be. And after reading this article, I've realized that my goals aren't unattainable, I've just got to put forth the effort.
I won't reveal the story so you can gleam your own meaning from it. But for me it is inspirational to say the least. It's encouraging to read that people who face many more challenges then myself can still accomplish miraculous things.
Finding the motivation to accomplish the little goals I've set has been nothing short of difficult. Work seems to be the only reason I get out of bed in the morning. I like my job, and I'd prefer to keep it. Especially during such an economic downturn.
There are several other goals I have for this year, but I just can't seem to focus on them. I'd love to have Willow trained by summer. It would be great to be able to host parties and have guests over again. Sure I take her to class once a week, but it's not enough. It's my goal to work with her for at least 30 minutes a day. We'll just say I'm about 5 days a week shy of that goal.
My other little goal is to keep the house cleaner throughout the week, so that I don't have to have a marathon cleaning day on Saturday. Again, I'm falling short of that goal. Our spare bedroom is one heaping pile of laundry. Clean laundry. I just need to find the time to fold it, and put it away.
The big goal this year is June 28th, a half marathon. Every time I think about it, and how I am behind in the training plan I set forth, I start to hiccup. On Sunday I think I had the hiccups seven times before going to bed with them. For me running has always been something I dared to try. I never expected to run races, or be competitive, but after getting to the 3 mile mark, I wanted to go further, and faster. I've run in a 5 mile race, and I've run up to 6 miles on my own. But I can't seem to get past those numbers. So I started 2009 with this ideal of running (without walking) 13.1 miles at the Fairfield Half Marathon.
We're now two months into 'the new year' I haven't focused on training my dogs, or myself. I've been really hard on myself for it too. I'm one big stressball because nothing is the way I want it to be. And after reading this article, I've realized that my goals aren't unattainable, I've just got to put forth the effort.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
the beast on the fridge
Near the end of my first semester in college I came to terms with a 20 lbs weight gain. Determined to shed those pounds my second semester I hit the gym, ate next to nothing, and even posted a picture of a severly overweight woman on our dorm fridge.
I thought by staring obesity in the face, I would back away from the fridge. Leave it's contents alone. That a picture of someone struggling with a weight issue would remind me that I didn't want to become that way. More importantly I didn't want to look that way.
Hanging that picture was succesful in that I didn't touch the fridge. But the negative effects far out-weighed skipping snack time. I started to stay away from the dining hall. I chose to drink coffee or redbull instead of having lunch. I looked at people who had weight issues and pitied them. I couldn't see how detrimental demonizing a picture of an obese woman was for my outlook on weightloss.
When it came time to pack up my freshman dorm room, the picture of the woman was packed away in a box amongst other memories. Several years later, I came across that photo, and I was ashamed. I was ashamed back when I posted it because I thought I was the beast on the fridge. I thought my weight defined who I was. Now I am ashamed that I ever let those thoughts control me. Sure I still have my issues with food and weight, and I'll always be conscious of it. But I think it's grown to be a positive thing. I try to eat well, and work out smart. In a few months I'll attempt my first half marathon. Hopefully I'll have pictures from that to post on the fridge.
I thought by staring obesity in the face, I would back away from the fridge. Leave it's contents alone. That a picture of someone struggling with a weight issue would remind me that I didn't want to become that way. More importantly I didn't want to look that way.
Hanging that picture was succesful in that I didn't touch the fridge. But the negative effects far out-weighed skipping snack time. I started to stay away from the dining hall. I chose to drink coffee or redbull instead of having lunch. I looked at people who had weight issues and pitied them. I couldn't see how detrimental demonizing a picture of an obese woman was for my outlook on weightloss.
When it came time to pack up my freshman dorm room, the picture of the woman was packed away in a box amongst other memories. Several years later, I came across that photo, and I was ashamed. I was ashamed back when I posted it because I thought I was the beast on the fridge. I thought my weight defined who I was. Now I am ashamed that I ever let those thoughts control me. Sure I still have my issues with food and weight, and I'll always be conscious of it. But I think it's grown to be a positive thing. I try to eat well, and work out smart. In a few months I'll attempt my first half marathon. Hopefully I'll have pictures from that to post on the fridge.
4 to 6 weeks
I read on another blog that it takes 4 to 6 weeks for a routine to turn into a habit. It seems like such a long time to finally get used to a routine. I have been trying to change my workout regiment for 5 months now. The first attempt ended in pneumonia, and most recently I strated back at the gym in the mornings, but got slammed by a nasty cold. Learning my less from the bout of pneumonia in 08, I stopped going to the gym altogether. Now it's a few weeks later, life is more calm, and it's time to attempt it again. Going to the gym in the morning makes sense for so many reasons. It's just that time between the alarm clock going off, and me reaching for the snooze button that needs to change.
Does anyone out there have a good method for getting to the gym in the morning?
Does anyone out there have a good method for getting to the gym in the morning?
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Competition
So Competitive
I am the most competitive person I know. See, I even have to be the most competitive of the competitive. I don’t know why I’m compelled to try to out-perform everyone. I often find myself trying to accept a friend’s success, trying to be happy for their accomplishment. But rather then be happy for them, I just want to do what they did, and do it better. Take running for example, it’s not my forte. It’s something I used to hate to do. The one year I joined track in high school, we had to jog two laps around the track. Not only could I barely make the first lap, I became a “thrower” so I wouldn’t have to run. Back then, I had no sense of competition. Today, I’m super envious of my friend who has come so far, and made major accomplishments in the past year. How could someone who really got into running a year ago be so much faster then me? I keep telling myself I just have to get to the gym, or get on the road and get back into it. I also remind myself that I added this complication to my life called Willow. I spend any free time I have with her, and it’s exhausting. So now I’m to the point of making excuses, and Willow is my scapegoat. Why can’t I just be happy that my friend has excelled at something and enjoys it? Why do I have to feel like a failure because I’m not as good as someone else?
At conference for work we hosted a great hospitality where people who drive indoor go-karts. I slid around those corners, and slammed the throttle for two hours in an effort to have the top time. I didn’t care who I “rear-ended” or how many black flags I got. I wanted to win. Improvements I made, but in the end the checkered flag was not waving for me. Was I a failure because I couldn’t beat 29 second laps?
Wednesday nights are obedience class nights for Dakota and Willow. Willow has basic first, and I evaluated her to be the worst puppy in class. Why was I even comparing her to the other dogs? Why did I feel that her behavior was a direct reflection of me? Dakota was by far the best dog in his advanced class. It made me feel like I was the best at giving direction to my dog. And at the end of class, when it was revealed that he had gotten less points then another dog, I wanted to pick a fight with the ref! Err . . . expert dog trainer.
It’s a characteristic that intensifies over time. I have only noticed it lately, but I’m glad that I have. I don’t want to be the unsupportive friend, or the super annoying coworker. Or even the overbearing “parent”. I just want to be the best . . .the best that I can be.
I am the most competitive person I know. See, I even have to be the most competitive of the competitive. I don’t know why I’m compelled to try to out-perform everyone. I often find myself trying to accept a friend’s success, trying to be happy for their accomplishment. But rather then be happy for them, I just want to do what they did, and do it better. Take running for example, it’s not my forte. It’s something I used to hate to do. The one year I joined track in high school, we had to jog two laps around the track. Not only could I barely make the first lap, I became a “thrower” so I wouldn’t have to run. Back then, I had no sense of competition. Today, I’m super envious of my friend who has come so far, and made major accomplishments in the past year. How could someone who really got into running a year ago be so much faster then me? I keep telling myself I just have to get to the gym, or get on the road and get back into it. I also remind myself that I added this complication to my life called Willow. I spend any free time I have with her, and it’s exhausting. So now I’m to the point of making excuses, and Willow is my scapegoat. Why can’t I just be happy that my friend has excelled at something and enjoys it? Why do I have to feel like a failure because I’m not as good as someone else?
At conference for work we hosted a great hospitality where people who drive indoor go-karts. I slid around those corners, and slammed the throttle for two hours in an effort to have the top time. I didn’t care who I “rear-ended” or how many black flags I got. I wanted to win. Improvements I made, but in the end the checkered flag was not waving for me. Was I a failure because I couldn’t beat 29 second laps?
Wednesday nights are obedience class nights for Dakota and Willow. Willow has basic first, and I evaluated her to be the worst puppy in class. Why was I even comparing her to the other dogs? Why did I feel that her behavior was a direct reflection of me? Dakota was by far the best dog in his advanced class. It made me feel like I was the best at giving direction to my dog. And at the end of class, when it was revealed that he had gotten less points then another dog, I wanted to pick a fight with the ref! Err . . . expert dog trainer.
It’s a characteristic that intensifies over time. I have only noticed it lately, but I’m glad that I have. I don’t want to be the unsupportive friend, or the super annoying coworker. Or even the overbearing “parent”. I just want to be the best . . .the best that I can be.
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