Running with Cats…

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For those who have never had an exercise buddy of the feline variety:

  1. Cats do not understand exercise with humans. To be fair, I haven’t ever had a steady habit of exercise around these cats, so this isn’t completely their fault. But, after a few weeks, you’d think they’d get the gist of what’s going on. We’re going to go around in circles for a while. Then we go home. We’ll be sweaty. I don’t imagine a lot of what we do makes sense so I’m not sure why this particular practice is so exciting/distressing.
  2. When cats do not understand exercise they signal their distress by screaming at you repeatedly the entire time you are exercising. I initially assumed they would get tired of screaming at us and go back home. This is not the case. They begin yelling as soon as we get out of our yard. They will trot behind us meowing that ramps up to screaming/yowling the further from the house we get.
  3. They seem to assume I need a bodyguard. If you’ve ever been around cats they have no clue they’re small. While I’m walking (and wishing I could not be doing the entire exercise thing) Neo puffs up, arches his back, and crab walks all around me. He’ll spit and yowl and act like a lunatic. It kind of looks like I’m engaged in a very slow chase with a very angry cat.
  4. They can run along with me but no, they’d prefer I look ridiculous. When I pick up the pace a very, very small amount the cats fall back and yowl pitifully as they trot along behind. Picture it. My big, sweaty, ungainly self shambling by in a painfully slow jog ….nothing happens for a minute….and then a couple of cats trot by yelling at my back. The next time I loop by your house you see the same bizarre parade. The last time I ran two different neighbors were taking their trash out. Both ended up standing there with their trash bags laughing for a couple loops.
  5. It’s hard to concentrate on anything whilst running when loud, pitiful sounding yowls are your constant chorus. I’ve become an even more unusual “runner” because now I just walk/jog/shamble/stagger around meowing back or fussing at the damn cats. It was just funny and charming, dare I say quirky, when we used to walk the dog and the cats came with us. Now that I’m trying to exercise it’s just weird. I was able to just run around the loop behind our property so very few people saw the cats chasing me. Now that it’s dark early I run through the neighborhood so I can actually see where I’m going.
  6. The new workout trend will be the crazy cat experience. I’ll go slower than you so you feel fast and strong and fit while my cats run around us screaming like they’re starving/being skinned alive. That’s what Marshmallow running dreams are made of.
  7. PS. Our fancy runnings cats are rescue cats (as are all of our animals). So if you want to run with a buddy, please rescue rather than buying. 

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Running high is a myth. Fight me.

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Happy Saturday! I have been on a long health journey of sorts and man do I suck at staying on track with anything. But, I’ve been doing the doctors and medications and programs and all that stuff. There has been quite a bit of success over a long period of time and I was pretty darn happy with it. Unfortunately, I’ve got a long way to go. One of the major things I struggle with is my weight. Swamp monsters tend to be a larger sort of frumpy folk. But, there has been some progress. Mancandy and I have been following the Couch to 5K program. He’s a former marine (you can’t say ex-marine or you will be forced to listen to a really long lecture…save yourself the torment). He ran every day for 8 years and was on the track team before that. He likes to exercise. And his motivational tactics are straight from the military, insulting and annoying. You can probably guess how well I respond to insulting and annoying people.

I, on the other hand, have not really followed any sort of exercise program since junior high. And I hated it then. Being a consistent sort when it comes to hatreds, I hate it now as well. And I’m a crap ton older, so I extra big big hate it. But, I’ve been doing it. He’s so dang happy I’m doing it, and I know he’s trying to help, but I hate his help. Every time he speaks to me while I’m sweating and sore and miserable I want to punch him in his nose. Hard.

The best part of our jogging crap are the bodyguards we’ve now peer pressured into jogging with us. Our two inside/outside cats, Neo and Tsuki, aren’t sure what’s going on but they feel duty-bound to go through it with us. They do not suffer in silence though. We jog to a chorus of meows. They puff up, dance around, fly past, trip you darting between feet, race ahead, run behind, and in general create a fuss. Anyone out walking or jogging ends up laughing at the ridiculous circus we make. We get questions from everyone. Usually, “Do you know there are two cats following you?”

I enjoy their enthusiasm, but I hate jogging. If Mancandy asks me if I “want” to run extra laps, he’s going to end up kicked in the noodle. Who “wants” to run at all? Not me said the flea. It just makes for extra laundry, extra sweat, extra showers, and extra sore everything. But here we are.

Also, no one told me jogging makes you have to pee immediately and desperately. I have to pee immediately before leaving my house and then by the time I get back (not even two miles at this point) I am desperately trying to strip out of wet clothes so I can avoid peeing on myself.

Also also, sports bras were made my a stupid, evil man who’s never worn a bra in his life. And they’re expensive torture instruments! I bought two because I knew I had one here someplace. Three to get through running three times a week. At least while I’m starting. But can I find the sports bra I already own? No. No, I can not. And nothing is quite as miserable as trying to rip a wet sports bra off of one’s person without damaging the stupid expensive torture device. So much worse than wet swimsuits. It’s revolting.

So. That’s the latest adventure. I’m sure there will be many more posts whining about it. You’re welcome.