Somebody Call 911

It’s been a momentous week, running-wise.

First, after a great deal of soul-searching, I found my power jam. I knew that any deliberate effort to separate the power jam wheat from the power jam chaff would be a mistake. One jam would rise organically to the top, breezily decapitating all the other jams and stealing their energy like a musical, bass-driven Highlander.

I was hoping that once this mysterious jam revealed itself, it would be both meaningful and timeless. At the very least, I was hoping it wouldn’t compel me to start my self-administered pep talks with the word “Shorty.”

Unfortunately, my power jam is “Fire Burning” by Sean Kingston. Perhaps it’s not the most inspirational or enduring song, but it puts me in my target heart rate a whole lot quicker than “Fight to Survive,” or “The Facts of Life” theme song, or whatever the hell else it was you guys suggested. I’m still working on an ultimate jam playlist, if anyone wants to do a mix trade, but until another power anthem rises to the top (or somebody calls 911), Shorty’s fire will continue to burn on this dance floor.

The second momentous thing that happened this week is that I was attacked and mauled by a dog while running. Angry dogs are second only to those runner-snatching alligators on the list of things I don’t want to encounter mid-run — although now that I’ve conceived of such a list, I can’t stop adding things like “throat-level razor wire” and “Terminators.” Angry dogs, however, represent a more rational fear, especially now that they’ve cut a vigorous swath across my upper thigh.

He looked like this, Officer.

As an outspoken cat person, I’ve encountered more than my fair share of dog apologists. Really, I’m not looking to deposit a lifetime of guff on the dog community here, but I would like to make one critical point. If you have an angry, hyperactive, or intimidating dog, KEEP IT ON A LEASH ON A PUBLIC TRAIL. It’s that easy. Just leash the bastard. I don’t drop my terrified cat on you while you’re in the shower, so don’t sic your dog on me when I’m running. The worst part about this whole incident is that it was too cold outside (below 15) for me to stop running and confront the owners, although they looked like the kind of people who would probably blame me for having the gall to sprint past their little babies at a catchable speed. Ok, maybe I am here to deposit a lifetime of guff. Dog owners are ridiculous.

Now that I’ve alienated the literally tens of people that read this blog, allow me to move on to the other momentous things that happened this week in running. I wore out a pair of running shoes and consequently tore a muscle in my quadriceps. This also probably had something to do with running in temperatures below 20, not stretching, and panic-sprinting away from the aforementioned dogs at a pace beyond my means. The fact that my toes burst out of the top of my ancient Asics, however, implies that equipment failure exacerbated the tear.

I’m pitilessly imposing 3-7 days off training, time that will probably be spent reading, moping around and pining for a Wii. Now that I’ve been humbled, I’m going to start over next week with new shoes and a new stretching regiment. I might even start drinking less and eating healthier. I don’t know — I feel wild and impulsive, like I need more grandiose fitness resolutions in my life.

I know I sound like I’m sponsored by the Nike+ipod thing, but it really is an amazing little device. If you already have an ipod, the sensor costs less than $20 and you can clip it onto any non-Nike shoe you want. The program acts like a digital coach — besides just Lance Armstrong and the cold, cynical lady voice, you can also make online training programs and compete in various challenges. This month, if you sign up for the challenge, every mile you run raises money to support Haiti. I’m also competing in a Zodiac sign challenge (Sagittarius FTW!) and a challenge to run 2010 miles in 2010. The need to simultaneously rebuild Haiti and destroy Capricorns means I’ll never lack motivation.

I don’t have time to get to the last momentous running thing that happened this week, but I think it warrants its own future post. I’ve decided to run the marathon to raise money for my friend Angela’s AIDS research nonprofit. More information about that to come! Thanks for putting up with my crazy cat lady rants. Once the welts on my legs heal, I promise to return to my equal-opportunity animal lover self.