Impromptu Half Marathon

That’s right you guys, I ran a half marathon! And 50 days ahead of schedule, too! Okay. So I had planned on running 12 miles for my long run yesterday morning, but, as it says, 12 is just too close to 13.1 for me to just quit at 12. And so, I kept going. Was I uncomfortable? Yes. Was it worth it? Definitely. There is no longer any doubt in my mind that I will be finishing my race in September. None. And I even think that my goal time is completely within reach. (I’m aiming for a 1:50 finish).

Splits.

However, the usual “runner’s high” and sense of accomplishment was squashed before it even really had a chance to take hold. When I had woken up yesterday morning, I came downstairs and one of my cats, Chi-Chi, didn’t seem to be doing too well. He’s probably about 15 years old and has been steadily deteriorating this past year, and especially in the past few months. Yesterday morning, it seems like he shrunk in half overnight. Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with having a thin cat. Some cats are just leaner than others. But Chi-Chi has always been big. He earned his “tubby” nickname for a reason…

Circa 2006-2007.

He was thin. He struggled to breathe even in his sleep. I could tell that something was definitely wrong. I called my mom right away. She’s been in North Carolina this past week visiting my half-sister. Luckily, even at 7am she was awake and already on the road back home. I told her that we needed to talk about Chi-Chi when she got back because it looked like things had taken a turn for the worse. She told me to call up our vet clinic and to call her back when I had a plan.

After we hung up, I was upset. While I’ve had pets my entire life, Chi-Chi was the first one that was fully mine. I named him. I picked fleas out of his fur when he was first brought to us (my sister had found him wandering the streets of Ann Arbor when she was in college and rescued him). He was my first baby, so obviously, while all pets have a special place in our hearts, he was especially important to me. I knew that there was nothing I could do right then, but I made sure that he had anything he could need and was comfortable. After a scratch on the head, I went for my run, fighting tears for a good part of it.

"Yaaaaaaawn."

Having just finished running 13.1 miles, I felt amazing. My legs were sore as heck, but the endorphins were keeping most of the discomfort at bay. I stepped through the door back home and there he was. I freaked out. I dropped everything and dashed upstairs in hysterics and already sobbing. I desperately called the only person that I could think could help me (my mom was still out of town, remember): my dad. It took 3 different phone numbers and 4 attempts later, but I finally got a hold of him. “Dad, I need your help right now. Please come over.” “Is everything okay?” “No, not at all.” He had thought that I needed to go to the hospital again because of my IBS.

When he got to me, I just collapsed into his arms and cried. I was covered in sweat and snot and tears but he didn’t care and neither did I. My dad, more than anyone, knows what our pets mean to us. The first time I ever saw my dad cry was when our dog, Jazz, died. Thankfully, since our family had gone through this many times before, he took care of Chi-Chi. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even bring myself to go downstairs. Afterwards, my dad just held me and let me cry.

Of course, he had to go eventually. I didn’t want to be alone, and it was still going to be another 12 or 13 hours before my mom got finished driving back. I reached out to my friends and was so fortunate to have one able to spend most of the rest of the day with me just to keep my mind off of things. It reminds me who is really my friend. Those who will come over and just watch Jersey Shore with you and talk about where the people you went to high school with are now when you had a really rough day and just need a distraction.

I’m so glad that I have people in my life that will always be there to catch me when I’m not strong enough to stand on my own.

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Just have to share this guy with you. One of the things that I’m obsessed with is piano or violin instrumentals of popular songs. You have to check this guy out, he has so many amazing covers….

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Have you ever lost a pet?

What do you do to get your mind off of things?

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10 thoughts on “Impromptu Half Marathon

  1. I’m so sorry about Chi-Chi (such a cute name!) I lost my cat Minnie recently and I still miss her very much. Pets aren’t ‘just’ pets but, if they’re anything like Minnie was to me, a child and a best friend rolled into one. Min was about the same age as Chi-Chi…I just try to think that at least they are not suffering a long or drawn out death and at least still had some dignity when they died, which I feel is really important to cats in particular.

    *hugs*

    xxx

  2. Firstly – congrats on the run!
    Secondly, I am so so sorry about your cat 😦 I know 100% hoe you feel; my family and I are always sooo close to our pets (they ARE a family!) but we’ve lost a lot over the years; my mum has had horses for 55years and has lost countless of her best friends. She’s lost dogs and cats too, and even her rabbit which was eaten by the dog right in front of her 😦
    My sister’s horse got put down a few years ago, which was horrific, and we lost our cat of 18 years (that my mum had rescued) year before last. It’s the worst thing in the world 😦
    Hope you’re ok! I’m thinking of you xx

  3. I’m very sorry to hear about your loss. I’ve never had a pet pass away on me naturally, but I’ve had to live through 4 euthanizations and I know how hard it can be. I wish I could be there to lend a shoulder for you to lean on and a hug to try to cheer you up.

    Congrats on your run too. I know it’s hard to fully enjoy your accomplishment given the circumstances, but do your best to take pride in it too. Take care and I hope all goes well for you in the next few days.

  4. I’m so sorry to hear about Chi-Chi 😦 I’ve always lived in houses with cats (plus the occasional dog) and we’ve lost a fair few over my lifetime, but, like you said, the first cat that was *mine* was the hardest, especially as there was no real closure; Pippin was 5, a curious little thing, and she climbed in the back of a builder’s van. She was disoriented and jumped out the doors when they stopped, we went to the area she’d jumped out but there was no sign. It was almost 3 years ago, and I still occasionally pop to where she jumped out to have a check for her.

    On a more positive note; congratulations on your impromptu half marathon!

  5. awww, Losing a pet is SO hard – I don’t think I would have been able to leave and go for a run tho, not at ALL! no matter how much I love running I don’t think I could have left – way. to. sad!

  6. Losing a pet is just as sad as losing a person. I have lost a pet before and it absolutely devestated me….they are like part of the family.

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