Multitasking!

While I'm making pancakes (in this case, hopeful long run fuel), I might as well try to figure out the vigorous highlights of a 1/2 week that apparently got swallowed up.

Every morning: walk/half-hearted short jog.  It's been warm and humid.

On Friday morning, we met two loose dogs in the forest, a pit mix and a mystery.  No owner in sight.  So I stopped and moved so that the dogs wouldn't come straight at us, for my dog usually doesn't like meeting canine Lord Nelsons: "Never mind maneuvers, go straight at 'em!".  Meanwhile I talked to the dogs and did my best to keep the mood light.  I didn't know these dogs from Adam, but they didn't appear to be aggressive, and they weren't after all.  The pit mix, another male, was pushy, but tempers didn't fray.  The owner showed up after a minute, but failed to call off her dogs .  By this point, we were on our way again with the dogs trailing us--and when I passed the owner, I managed to reciprocate her pleasantries with a smile (I'm taking a Bless your heart attitude to these people who either can't read or can't leash their dogs), but she stopped me.  She said our dogs looked alike.  As it turned out, they did: their heads were a similar shape, and, as it turned out, both of them had had their ears cropped off with scissors before they were "rehomed" with us.  :(  I told her that scissors were the scumbag tool of choice, and she laughed.  That was nice.  Very few people laugh at my jokes below the Mason Dixon line, even though I keep them very clean and non-political/non-religious.  We talked some more, and while I don't agree with her dog-handling completely, especially since she admitted that her pit mix could be belligerent with other males and yet lets him run loose, we found some common ground.

Yesterday: 2 hr 15 min jog with the dog, and then weights.  The jog was about as typical as they come: warmish weather, 21-22C and humid, but no major issues.  The weights, however, were dramatic.  I warmed up with some power cleans, 40 pounds below my all-time best, and then I cleaned and squatted 20 pounds below my all-time best--but just one rep.  The clean was horrible and almost incomplete, and the squat was about as good.  I'd miscalculated: I was tired out. 

Yet I didn't walk away.  Maybe I needed more of a warm up.  I could still do the injury prevention stuff (delt flies and clamshells) and throw in some pike situps--but, above all else, I couldn't leave the power cleans messed up like that, not again.  So I took off 20 pounds again and started over.  I alternated between power cleans and other exercises.  Once I felt more comfortable, I put 10 pounds back on and did some more reps.  10 more pounds, and more reps, and more confidence and, unexpectedly, more aggression and more speed.  I realized then that I'd been overly cautious; I had to trust that my form was well-practiced enough.  I had to become that pit mix and/or Lord Nelson: "Go straight at 'em!"  Just fling it up.  ASAP

And then, finally, I did three reps with 10 more pounds.  Still 10 pounds under my all-time best, but that dates from a while ago--I was actually at my present max.  It felt brutal--not painful or hard at all, but emotionally vicious.  It was actually thrilling and cathartic.  I would have done more reps, but my dog distracted me.  He was lying on a pile of packing mats, like he usually does, and he knows better than to step on my square when I'm lifting stuff, but perhaps he sensed my sudden burst of temper and was coming over to check it out.  Fortunately, he was not, and I completed my set.  I wound up 10 pounds heavier than the first failed clean. Success!

I'm not so sure we'll salvage today's long run after all...we both seem to have a cold, or allergies. 

EDIT: aw, I forgot to mention that 50 minutes of that jog was a fartlek session.  I pushed on the parts of trails that I like, and slacked off on the annoying stretches.  This was considerably slower than pushing through the entire loop, but I don't think my breathing dropped much at all during it.  And it was more fun because I went faster on the nice bits.