Bom Dia! The Rum Runner Visits Portugal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


It was a random Friday evening a few months ago when just before drifting asleep, Shawn said to me, “Oh, yeah, I forgot- if you could visit Portugal in March would you?” What a random question. First of all, yes, why not? I’ve always wanted to return to Europe, although Portugal wasn’t necessarily at the top of my list to visit. Secondly, why was Shawn asking this? Was there the opportunity to really visit Portugal or was he just gauging my interest in the Iberian Peninsula for no good reason?

As it turns out, yes, Shawn’s work was sending him to Lisbon for a sales kickoff event and he wanted me to join in on the fun. I decided to fly in a few days after Shawn to avoid being all alone in a foreign country while he worked all day and night. I knew nothing about Portugal and had no idea if I would feel safe, let alone find anything to do on my own. How naïve I was. Had I known how majestic Portugal truly was, I would have flown in the minute Shawn asked and taken up residency.


Pictured: A Freakin’ Castle

What’s not to love about Lisbon? The architecture is amazing, the food is amazing, the wine is amazing, the people are amazing, it’s just pure amazement all around. There is more than enough to do around Lisbon itself. Aside from eating and drinking our way around the city we also visited the famous Lisbon Oceanarium and Time Out Market. We also made our way to historic Sintra, home of the Pena Palace, Moorish Castle, mountains, and hilly streets with tiny restaurants oozing with European charm. Shawn and I fell in love with Sintra’s beauty and history. There is something truly awe-inspiring looking out at the view from a castle that was built in the 1200’s. There is nothing like that to experience back in the United States. Heck, I brag that our neighborhood bar is the oldest in Michigan (it was built in 1832).

This was my first vacation in over a year that didn’t revolve around running a race of some kind. That being said, Shawn and I did sneak in a few runs around the bay in Lisbon. There were plenty of bike paths, piers, and breath-taking views of the bay and famous Vasco de Gama bridge to make our runs exciting. Our runs probably burned off about 1/32nd of all the wine and cheese and bread we consumed, but that wasn’t the point.


A view of the longest bridge in Europe during our run

This was also the first vacation in a very long time in which I wasn’t ready to go home. There is something so different, so relaxed, about the way of life in Portugal and I wanted to be immersed in it forever. Something so simple as grabbing a delicious ham and cheese sandwich and hopping on a train and watching the scenery go by was enjoyable and something that we just don’t do back home in Michigan. Our ham sucks in comparison, and public transportation is non-existent.

For Americans with dreams of travelling abroad, Paris, London, or Rome usually top the list of dream cities to visit. I’ve been to London and I’m sure Paris and Rome are wonderful, but take a chance and go off the beaten path and experience Portugal if you’re ever so lucky. One sip of Ginga (sour cherry liqueur!!) and you’ll be in love.

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Marathon #17 in State #13: The Austin Marathon




I truly wish I could’ve thought of a better title for this recap, but maybe just like my beat up legs, my brain is tired and useless. This past Sunday I ran the Austin Marathon in Texas (of course), knocking another state off the long list, though it wasn’t without a massive struggle. Austin, unbeknownst to me before the marathon, is considered “Texas Hill Country” (thanks to the gentleman on my flight home who filled me in on this fact one day too late). I had thought Charlotte and Jackson had hilly courses, but I was truly mistaken in my definition of a hill.

Instead of a play-by-play report of a fun weekend spent in a fun new city with my husband Shawn and several running friends, I thought I’d break the weekend up into “chunks”, because who doesn’t love the word “chunks”.

  • The City of Austin: In my previous marathon experience just three weeks ago in Jackson, MS, bars and beer were few and far between. This was not the case in Austin. It seemed the entire city was NOTHING but bars and restaurants. Yes the LBJ Presidential Library is in town and full of culture I’m sure; however, we weren’t in the mood for no learnin’. We were too busy drinking, riding Jackalopes, drinking, eating sausage and tacos, drinking, and dialing random numbers left on Uno cards. The Red River ran through the city and the river walk did look lovely. Other than that, no real “natural” beauty to gaze at. There is a bridge over the river that is apparently home to bats in warmers months, which explained the mysterious bat theme throughout the town. I’m not sure where the Jackalope makes its home.

Pictured: Culture

  • The Expo/Swag: Not bad! I found a really cool “Run Austin” shirt that is super comfy. The race shirt itself was a great retro design as well. I don’t have a photo because I suck at blogging. Full marathoners also got a good pair of Under Armor running socks. The finisher’s medal also doubles as a belt buckle, which would be cool if I wore belts (my fat ass keeps my pants up just fine, thank you). Again, no picture of the medal because I suck, but take my word when I tell you it featured a nice scene of Austin, complete with BATS!
  • The Course: Well if you enjoy running on slippery, hilly, concrete while taking in the fine sights of local fast food joints, then Austin is your marathon! Seriously, I can’t think of a single spectacular sight during the entire 26.2 miles, other than the damn steep hill leading us up into mile 26. There were no nice historic neighborhoods like in Jackson, or a jaunt through a local park like in Charlotte. Nothing but roads and restaurants. The crowd support was vibrant however, and included an anti-circumcision protester on a scooter. Keep Austin Weird, indeed.
  • Best Moments: The aforementioned protester gave me a chuckle. I mean, his sign had emojis on it which proved his seriousness. I also liked when a volunteer shouted “See you all back next year!” and a runner responded, “Not me! These hills suck!” There we soooo many happy puppies on the course too. Austin is a very dog-friendly city. There were some beer stations but seeing as how I knew I’d be drinking my weight in beer after the run I passed them up. Lastly, it’s rare that Shawn is able to travel with me to my out-of-state adventures, so it helped to have him waiting for me at the finish line with a healing hug. That hug was followed by two very delicious craft beers in the beer tent.
  • Worst Moments: Well most of the marathon was a bad moment. The lines to the porta potties were super long so it didn’t help that I had to pee three times during the run (no idea why or how, peeing is usually not my issue!). Until the half marathon runners broke off, the course was pretty congested which made getting ahead difficult. The scenery wasn’t much to take my mind off of the pain of throbbing legs. Around mile 22 I finally hit the wall and felt dizzy and weak. I gave up on my A Goal and settled into my B Goal which was simply to break five hours. I loudly cursed when I looked up and realized mile 26 was almost entirely up hill. The goodie bag of food presented to me when I finished had a fruit cup in it. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE DEMANDING FRUIT CUPS AFTER MARATHONS I DON’T GET IT! Seriously race directors, stop giving them out. No one eats them; we aren’t in elementary school.

Austin Texas is a fine town to party in but I wouldn’t run through it again any time soon. My finishing time was around 4:52, which was disappointing as I had wanted to improve on my finish in Jackson. The hills had other plans. I don’t have any other marathons on the horizon nor do I plan to for reasons I won’t go into here. It’s really difficult to change my mindset from constantly preparing for the next long run. Part of me wants to register for the Glass City Marathon in Toledo, Ohio and finally run a sub 4:40 for the first time in four years. The better part of me (Shawn) would probably kill me if I did. I may pick an early spring 5K to target and focus on short distance speed for the first time since…well, ever. I know short distances are nothing to sneeze at and take just as much training but this distance junkie might just relapse.

P.S.- I’d be a terrible wife if I didn’t mention that Shawn ran a 1:52 half marathon in Austin after not running for months and only riding his bike trainer. Shawn is a freak and we should all hate him (just kidding…a little).

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Marathon #16 in State #12, the Mississippi Blues Marathon!

img_7266I think I can safely say I had never experienced “The Deep South” before my recent visit to Jackson, Mississippi. Sure, I’ve been to Florida a lot and even Louisiana, but I would hardly call Tampa and New Orleans a true representation of the South. While waiting for my Uber to the hotel after stepping off of the plane, a gentleman walked past me and my friend Mary Beth and said “Hello Ladies”. Back home, any greeting by a stranger is usually greeted with suspicion. He quickly followed up with, “Welcome to Mississippi. We friendly here.”

Extremely polite strangers were abundant in Jackson. What was not abundant was countless breweries to visit, which I have become accustomed to after running a marathon in a new city. Jackson is like most capitol cities I imagine- probably very busy during the week and then dead on the weekends when professionals are home in other cities. Similar to Detroit, we were told that “the money left Jackson for the suburbs” and there were areas with run down buildings and roads riddled with potholes. However, whenever me and Mary Beth are together, fun is to be had, even if there was only one brewery in town.

Upon landing in Jackson, it was our mission to find coffee and to obsessively check our weather apps to see if the “100% chance of rain all day long, suckas!” forecast had changed at all. My app was more optimistic predicting a 50% chance for rain. My app was horribly wrong. More on that later. The expo for the Mississippi Blues Marathon was held in a local Marriott. It was a nice standard expo with your usual booths for hair bands, medal hangers, and promotions for local races. The woman who gave me my bib said she liked my last name. Again, very polite strangers. Of course, a Blues band played at the expo under blue lights. How meta.

We were told by our very friendly hotel front desk attendant Larry that the new Civil Rights Museum was not to be missed. Mary Beth and I had time to kill, and being the history nerds that we are, decided to check it out along with the Museum of Mississippi History. The history museum was about as exciting as one would expect Mississippi history to be (spoiler alert: moderately interesting). However, the Civil Rights Museum was world-class. It still amazes me the deadly lengths that people went to in order to stop African-Americans from having basic human rights. Seeing banners filled with the thousands of names of those who were lynched, along with a wall filled with the mug shots of all the peaceful protestors who fought for civil rights, was awe-inspiring. If you are ever in Jackson this museum is a must-see. In order to get some levity our next stop was to a local distillery, Cathead. Based on the name along we had to check it out. We were excited to drink some whiskey and vodka until the bartender informed us that local liquor laws prohibited the serving of liquor at a distillery. We would have to drink beer. Oh, darn.

Mary Beth and I ate dinner at a local Blues bar which was pretty dead at around 5pm. Oh well, there was live music and our meals were discounted for running the marathon. We were in bed around 7:30ish and I fell asleep shortly after. Having to get up at 3am that morning to get on a plane took a lot out of me. Despite my 10 hours of sleep, morning came fast and it we began our 1.5 mile walk in the rain, in order to get to the starting line of my 26.2 mile run in the rain. Fun times. Luckily, shortly into our walk some fellow marathoners stopped and asked if we wanted a ride. A lifetime of being told “never get into a car with strangers” went out the window. Besides, there were dressed as runners. So either they were more extremely polite strangers, or very smart sex traffickers who put on a good costume. Thankfully they were the former.

I started my run with the 4:50 pace leader and was feeling like this was a perfect pace and I couldn’t go much faster. I stayed with Mr. 4:50 until around mile 8 when he decided “screw pacing!” and pulled away from the group. Seriously, we were dumbfounded. Maybe he started us out to slowly. At any rate it was around this time I had to make my one and only pee stop. I had to wait nearly 10 minutes in line which killed my spirits, but I was about to piss myself (not that anyone would’ve noticed, all my clothes were soaking wet at this point). In order to make up time I pushed myself to run 9:30ish miles until I hit mile 11. I felt surprisingly strong. The course was pretty through the rain- lots of historic neighborhoods filled with old money. It also offered plenty of challenging hills. I pushed myself to run faster on the down hills and flat portions and took my time on the hilly miles.

Two days before my marathon I attended the funeral of a friend, Karen Perzyk, who was the most amazing runner and triathlete I’ve ever known. She qualified for Boston several times and even the Kona Ironman. It goes without saying Karen was an elite athlete who never accepted less than her best effort. During the second half of my marathon, I felt her presence around me, pushing me through any threat of a wall, pushing me to run faster when I wanted to walk, pushing me to run faster when my legs were killing me. I felt stronger in the last six miles and began running sub-10’s after mile 22. Let me tell you, I have never before in my 15 prior marathons ran negative splits, let alone feel like I’m not going to die in the final miles. There was definitely something bigger than myself with me on that course. I finished in 4:44:30, beating my goal of 4:50.

Usually after a marathon my stomach is not ready for food, but after running the hills of Jackson my stomach wanted ALL THE THINGS. Thankfully there was pizza and beer at the finish. I began shivering in my soaking clothes so we caught an Uber back to the hotel. Mary Beth and I switched into party mode and made our way through many beers, delicious bourbon cocktails, and amazing barbecue.

Running Jackson brought me back some much-needed confidence. It reminded me that I can push myself through pain and fatigue; in fact, that’s the only way to successfully run a marathon. I’m looking forward to the Austin Marathon just three weeks away. I’m hoping to shave a few more minutes off of my finishing time, perhaps run a sub 4:40? My plan is to run less  and cross train more during the week and run long on the weekends. My husband Shawn will FINALLY be accompanying me to an out-of-state marathon and I’m trying to convince him to pace me. He’s one of those annoying people who can run fast with little training.

Long story short- I’m proud of my effort in Jackson and I’m happy to knock another state off of the list. I truly believe 2018 is going to be an amazing year!

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Streaking Through the Holiday Season

Though I have been totally lazy and haven’t written in a while, that’s definitely not because of a lack of running and racing. Before I get to the main point of my post I thought I’d give some updates, since I’m sure all two people who probably read my blog are on the edge of their seats.

I’ve been feeling pretty good about my speed this fall so I was really hoping to run a 2:10 or less at the Detroit Free Press International Half Marathon in October. Well, my dumb butt decided that eating at Polish Village Café the night before was a good idea. I’m sure you don’t need to be reminded that kielbasa and sauer kraut aren’t recommended fuel for running. After about six visits to porta potties in the last three miles, I finished in a disastrous 2:27. However, my urge to run a faster half still needed to be satisfied and I decided to run the Monroe Half Marathon on November 5th. I finished in just over 2:05, smashing my goal of 2:10.

My performance in Monroe gave me confidence that I could run a possible 4:45 at the Charlotte Marathon on November 11th. However, confidence doesn’t make up for a lack of training and long runs. Charlotte is also not like Monroe in that is has HILLS FOR DAYS. I hung with the 4:45 pace group for a while, and to be honest, I began hanging back due to a very loud and obnoxious woman who was running with the group. Hearing her scream as every passing car to “HONK FOR US!!! HONK!!!!!!” was enough for me to let up on my goal. Well, that and the fact I just didn’t have it in me 😉 Oh well, I was pretty pleased to run a 4:52:51. For my next marathon, the Mississippi Blues Marathon in Jackson, I will try this whole “training plan” thing out and again try to run a 4:45 or better.


Look at this sexy medal

To help me achieve my goal in Jackson, I’ve also committed to participating in a holiday running streak sponsored by the Running Lab in Brighton. The rules are simply to run, walk, or hike at least one mile a day between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day. I’ve tried streaking before unsuccessfully, but the possibility to win prizes and the accountability of posting your workout to their Facebook group every day is very motivating. Something else that is motivating me is how unhappy I am at my current weight. I gained a lot last year with the constant travel my job demanded and it seems to be getting worse lately. I’m tired of making excuses for myself and I know I deserve better. I’m hoping that cutting back on the beer, not eating out at restaurants as much, and committing to my running streak will help shed some of these unwanted pounds.


Have you ever successfully completed a running streak? Have you ever been able to lose weight during the holiday season? Am I an idiot for even trying?

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Running for Fun, and Feeling the Need for Speed


As stated in my previous post, I came out of July with the need to fall back in love with running. In order to do so I signed up for a few races in August that I had always enjoyed running in the past, but that I haven’t been able to enjoy in the past few years due to a constant marathon training schedule (you aren’t going to waste your time running a fun 10K when you have 20 miles on your schedule). I also discovered some new races as well.

August was a great month for fun races, starting with the Advokate 10K in Rochester, Michigan. I’ve already stated why this race was so much fun in the past, and though I didn’t even come close to the 52:10 I ran there four years ago, I still had fun supporting a great cause, St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital. The very next day I ran another 10K in town, the Milford Memories. It was decent enough, except for the fact that I run that route all the time for free. The Milford Memories is a big festival with art and vendors but unfortunately I had to get home to get ready for a 23 mile bike run with friends. Yeah, I kicked some ass that day.

Next up was an 11 mile trail race in Marquette, way up north in the Upper Peninsula. The rugged terrain of the UP made technical trails back home, such as Bald Mountain and Pontiac Lake, feel like an easy stroll through the woods. As difficult as it was, it was nowhere near as difficult as running the 50K going on that same day, which Shawn was able to finish while still in the upright position and without crying. I had fun watching the ultra runners come in after my puny little run (that took three hours!! rocks everywhere!!!!) and was amazed by how so many finished their runs looking like they’d just completed an easy 5K. I want to know the secret to not crying in ultras. Some 50 Mile runners crossed the finish line and strolled over to the food station without even collapsing. Oh, and speaking of food, the post-race spread was delicious burritos from a place called Border Grill in Marquette. Their Border Sauce is the stuff of dreams and I tried unsuccessfully to find a knock off recipe on the internet.

My next super-happy-fun race in August was the famous Crim Festival of Races. Four years ago I finished the 10 mile run in 1:25! This year, well, I took an extra 15 minutes. I spent that extra time drinking mimosas and beer found on the course. My only goal- consume all alcohol offered to me. Goal met. I stayed in Flint the night before and enjoyed a very tasty vegan burger at a bar called The Soggy Bottom, which would be the last place I’d expect to find vegan food. We also enjoyed a “Mystery Beer” off of the menu, which tasted like an amber, but the server wouldn’t give up the secret. I guess it’s iron-clad until the keg is tapped. Part of me still wants to call and see if it’s finished yet.

Last but certainly not least was the Milford Labor Day 30K on September 2nd. This race really shouldn’t be included in this post because 1) It wasn’t in August, and 2) It’s not at all fun. In fact, two years ago when I ran it I almost quit twice. It’s notorious for its relentless hills and the fact that it always seems to be 1,000 degrees on the day of the run. This year, we enjoyed some mild fall-like weather that helped me finish 15 minutes faster than two years ago. Finally, some improvement! When all was said and done, I actually had a great time running the “Milf” this year. Beautiful course, fun after party with Fat Tire beer and burgers, and it doesn’t hurt that I live less than 10 minutes from the start line. There was also an angel who appeared on the course distributing Oberon. You can see my new kittens, Luna and Luigi, modeling the medal in the photo above.

Running the Labor Day 30K somewhat successfully, I really want to give ultra distances a rest for the time being and focus on speed again. The only real races I have coming up are the Detroit Free Press Half Marathon and the Charlotte Marathon. I’d love to maybe break 2:10 for the half, and if the running gods allow, 4:40 for the full. My PRs in both distances are much faster than that, but I fear those days are behind me and it’s time to accept a new running normal. In order to reach these goals, I’m going to run with friends as much as possible. Looking back on my fast finishes from four years ago, I realize it was constantly running with my faster friends that got me there.


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Comfort Races

I must say, it feels good writing a post that is running/fitness related instead of dead pet related. That being said, I really don’t have much to post in regards to my running since I barely did any of it in July. Truth be told, due to the constant vet visits and care that go into taking care of sick and dying pets, and not to mention the stress and heartbreak, I only ran a total of 15 miles in the month of July.

But Laura, your second 50 miler in North Country is only a couple of weeks away! Yes, thanks for the reminder you jerk. I am fully aware of how unprepared and unmotivated I am to tackle another 50 miler, so sadly, I have decided to be a DNS. Instead, I will be running 40 fewer miles as I tackle the Crim Festival of Races on August 26th. This brings me to the title of this post.

Four years ago was one of the happiest and most successful in my running history. I was setting personal records left and right and was able to enjoy some really fun races associated with some great memories with friends, which is why I now refer to them as  “comfort races”. Like macaroni and cheese or mashed potatoes, these are races that are just plain fun and make me feel warm and fuzzy with nostalgia. As I put myself through another round of 50-mile training in preparation for North Country, I realized I was burned out. Running wasn’t fun anymore. I wanted to be the runner I was four years ago when running felt effortless and it was something I actually looked forward to. I needed to run more comfort races.

The AdvoKate 10K in Rochester is one such comfort race for me. The AdvoKate is held in memory of Kate, a young girl who passed away from pediatric brain cancer. No that is not at all a “comforting” thought but the race does raise funds for one of my favorite charities, St. Jude’s. My friend Andrea and I had a tradition going for two years where we would run the AdvoKate and then drive to Clarkston to enjoy a delicious barbecue lunch at the Union Woodshop. Sadly, Andrea is in graduate school in Ohio and couldn’t join me this year. However, seeing those familiar pink balloons at the start line and running through my favorite trails in my favorite city was enough to bring back so many great memories of miles spent with my friend. Four years ago I set my 10K PR of 52:10 at this race. I surely did not run that fast this year but I enjoyed myself and that was my only goa.

The Crim 10 mile race in Flint, Michigan, was another favorite that I participated in four years ago. Along with my friends Andrea and Mary Beth, we travelled to Flint the night before to run the Michigan Mile and have some fun downtown. We had a blast that night exploring the all important Expo, getting a free meal because a restaurant accidentally poisoned MB with a buttered bun (she has a lethal dairy allergy), getting beer from a toothless lady, and making up one of MB and mine’s most enduring inside jokes- The Beefberry. The race itself was a blast too, with crazy fun spectators and some beautiful scenery that I was not quite expecting from Flint. The race after-party was a blast as well with more beer tent fun and listening to some great live music. I’ve been wanting to run the Crim again ever since but have always had a conflict. I am so excited to be able to run it again this year, despite knowing I’ll also be DNS-ing North Country.

Speaking of happy memories, I hope to make some more by running some new-to-me races in the coming weeks- the Milford Memories 10K this coming Sunday, and the Marquette Trail 11 Mile Race the week after. Having logged so many long runs all year, it’s been very liberating running short distances and having so much of your day left. My husband will be running the 50K in Marquette and I look forward to a vacation filled with all the beauty the Upper Peninsula has to offer.

Is there another 50 miler in my future? I’ve been toying with the idea of running The Yankee Springs Winter Challenge 50 Miler in January. I was so motivated to tackle another 50 after the Indiana Trail, but that motivation quickly faded when I realized I’d be training solo this time, and in the heat and humidity. For now, I’m enjoying the short runs. Plus, as a friend recently told me, “You have already have your 50! Why the hell would you want to do another?!”

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“I can’t believe this is happening to us again.”

This was a phrase that Shawn and I have repeated many times since that awful morning on July 8th. That was the morning we learned that our kitten, Widget, was sick. In case you hadn’t read my previous post, we had just put down our beloved cat Beans just five days before.

We repeated it again on July 17th, when we had to bring Widget into the vet to say our final goodbyes, exactly two weeks to the day after we said our final goodbyes to Beans.

“Are you familiar with how the procedure works?” the vet tech asked us as we sat in the “Comfort Room” in the vet’s office, while Shawn held our ailing kitten in his arms. Yes, unfortunately we were all too familiar with the procedure. And we couldn’t believe this was happening to us again.

Days after Beans passed, Widget spent most of his time sitting on the couch and looking out the window. He missed his big brother, we thought. Then he started eating less of his food. He’s growing up and starting to graze more like a normal cat, we thought. Then on the morning of July 8th he refused to eat at all and began to throw up white foam. My paranoia brought him right into the vet’s office where it was found he had a fever and a very low red blood cell count. A week of hell followed as we went from treating a possible infection or possible autoimmune disorder, squirting liquid medicine in our poor kitten’s mouth morning and night. We had been granted a few days free of forcing a cat to tolerate medicine, now we were back in the game.

After about nine days we knew Widget was getting worse. He no longer ate willingly and we were force feeding him baby food through a dropper. He could barely walk anymore and was nothing but skin and bone. On Monday morning, July 17th, Shawn brought him into the vet for another check up. The doctor agreed it was time to say goodbye. I rushed home from work to join my husband’s side in the “Comfort Room”, and we ended the suffering of our poor, barely 4-month-old kitten.

When you have no definite answers, your mind will run wild with theories. Was there something in our house poisoning our cats? I googled everything from radon poisoning to lead poisoning to sulphur poisoning and none of the symptoms matched. Could I have brought home some exotic toxin from Hawaii? Did he get bit by some insect? Should we have got a second opinion? Did Widget die needlessly? I ended up reaching out to the shelter that we had adopted Widget from, asking if they knew of any mysterious illnesses his siblings may have been diagnosed with. At the time I called, the shelter had heard nothing. Then, this past Friday, they called me back with some devastating, yet oddly comforting news.

Widget’s sibling had suddenly died. The diagnosis was FIP- Feline Infectious Peritonitis. FIP is caused by a common virus that over 80% of cats get exposed to. However, in rare cases, the virus mutates and causes FIP. FIP is untreatable, incurable, and fatal. Most cats die within weeks if not days. Common symptoms are the refusal to eat, anemia, and a fever that will not go away with antibiotics, all of which our Widget had.

I say this awful news was comforting because at least now I have an answer. At least now I know that we were fighting a losing battle and we did everything we possibly could.

Widget lived a happy and spoiled little kitten life. He got to make two trips up to Lake Charlevoix. He would calmly sit on our laps as we sat next to bonfires or sat outside on the deck. He had a huge cat tree all to himself and would snuggle between Shawn and myself to sleep at night. We used to joke that we never wanted to see him get big, never knowing the true weight of our words.

Beans was my first cat, but Widget was my first kitten. He was sweet and cute and calm and loving and jumped on my lap anytime I sat on the couch. He was my “snuggle bunny” and the house just feels so damned empty without him and Beans.

I’m getting by, but the grief has ways of showing up unexpectedly. I was in the grocery store recently and a song came on that I had once danced around the living room to while holding Widget in my arms. Of course I started bawling while everyone else in the toilet paper section walked on oblivious to my pain.

I know we will one day welcome a special new kitty/kitties into our home, and some of that emptiness will dissipate. I just still can’t believe this happened to us, again.



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This is the most difficult thing I have ever had to write, but I feel like if I don’t, I might have a breakdown. Not to say that I’m functioning too well right now; I’m in the stage of grief where the shock has worn off and reality has sunk its sharp claws directly into my heart: my best friend, my faithful companion, my baby boy, my kitty Beans, is dead.

Beans’ health, while showing signs of slight decline since January, took a steep nosedive as soon as I got home from my work trip to Hawaii in late May. After being hospitalized and treated for a UTI and pancreatitis, we thought he might recover with medication. However, there was the matter of him having swollen lymph nodes through his entire illness. Best case scenario: the swelling was due to throwing up frequently. Worst case (and more likely) scenario: Beans had cancer. The only way to confirm the cancer was through surgery, and there was no way I was putting him through further pain and suffering than necessary. Besides, at just eight pounds, the surgery alone could’ve killed him. After a month of him not responding to his medication, continuing to lose weight and not eat, I made the painfully difficult decision that humanely euthanizing my poor baby was better than allowing him to starve to death. I decided that if nature didn’t have its way by July 3rd, I’d take Beans in.

How do you prepare for the day you know your pet is going to die, at your hands no less? Well, first you run with a friend. Then, you allow your dying pet to do whatever the hell he wants all day; in Beans’ case, I let him outside and allowed him to feel the grass. His health was so bad at this point he couldn’t even jump, let alone run, so a leash wasn’t necessary. I just followed closely behind him as he slowly made his way around the yard, down the driveway, and inspecting the neighbor’s bushes. I constantly picked him up and smothered him with kisses. I gave him chest rubs. I held him close to my chest in the car ride to the vet’s office and his limp body didn’t fight back.

“You did everything right by Beans”, the vet told me before the moment. You know the moment I’m talking about. I won’t go into details because that time in that room with Beans as he passed is sacred to me. I will admit I whaled like a wounded animal. I was a wounded animal.

I didn’t request his ashes because I didn’t want to think of Beans as being trapped in a box forever. Was that the right thing to do? I have been questioning every moment and every decision I made since Beans got sick. What could I have done differently? Was I attentive enough? Was it all my fault because we got a new kitten? Should I have taken him in sooner? Should I have let him hang on longer, maybe a miracle could’ve saved him? These are questions I’ll wrestle with forever I’m sure. Along with these demons, I did come home with Beans’ paw print pressed in clay that we baked when we got home. I still marvel at how tiny that paw print looks compared to the large personality Beans had.

Everyone loved Beans. Every doctor and vet tech that ever treated him told me how handsome and friendly he was. Every friend who stopped by our home was greeted by Beans; he was not the type of cat to hide upstairs. He wanted to be involved in everything. I’ll never forget waiting in line to pick up Beans from the Pets Hotel where he was being boarded when we went on a cruise in February. I overheard one of the employees telling a couple who was picking up their dog, “You know, I just started here, and I never thought I liked cats. But there is this one cat we have with us named Beans, and he is just the coolest cat ever.” He was.

Ten years ago, I wanted a pet. I was living in a tiny apartment and though I preferred dogs, a cat would have to do. Word got around my office that I was reluctantly thinking of bringing a cat into my home. My office manager at the time just so happened to be taking care of a stray in her neighborhood. “He’s a good kitty and could use a good home” she told me. He was delivered to me on December 15th, 2007 with a red bow on his carrier. The night before I had bought every item in the cat isle at Target. We were suspicious of each other that first night. Beans mostly hid in the cat tent I had purchased (I went a bit overboard at Target), while I wondered if he would like me, and vice versa. The next morning I woke up to Beans next to me in bed. He pawed at my face and gave me his first meow. In that moment, I became a crazy in love obsessed kitty momma.

Beans was by my side through every move to every new home; the poor guy lived in five different residences in his nearly ten years with me. He stuck by me through my divorce and instantly accepted his new daddy Shawn. “Accept” is a weak word, Beans was straight up in love with Shawn. As cute as it was, I had to remind him frequently, “you’re sitting on his lap? Who feeds you and cleans your litter box after all?!” Beans had Black Kitty Healing Powers, I swear to God. Not only could he cure any emotional crisis by jumping on my lap, but he once healed me when I had the flu. Seriously, stay with me here- I was up all night hacking up a lung. Beans eventually jumped onto my chest and began what I can only describe as “turbo-purring”. Ever time I coughed, he purred stronger. The vibrations from his body helped calm me enough that within a few minutes, I finally drifted asleep. Tylenol Cold and Flu had nothing on Black Kitty Healing Powers.

I write this two days after Beans’ passing. I write this because it’s a more constructive way to deal with my grief than pacing around the house sobbing, touching every spot Beans ever lay down on thinking I can feel his warmth. I write this because I need to get it all out, not just as a catharsis, but because I want the world to know what a special cat Beans was. I want it recorded into history (or just WordPress) that Beans was the greatest cat who ever lived and he took a piece of my heart with him to Kitty Heaven.

Mommy loves you Beans. Thanks for being mine.

 HAWAII, KITTENS, AND AGE GROUP AWARDS, OH MY! (or, what I’ve been up to since my 50 mile race)

Widget Medal

Our newest medal model, Widget

After my 50 mile race on April 29th, May arrived and flew by in a flash. Though I only logged about 80 miles of running that month (my lowest monthly mileage since 2012), I guess I had a few good excuses.

First was my trip to Hawaii. OH MY GOODNESS WHERE ARE ALL THE PICTURES?!?!?! Well, though I was in paradise, it was nonetheless a business trip in paradise. I took some pictures but the business at hand left little time for exploring outside of the Honolulu city limits. That’s not to say I didn’t have a blast. Waikiki is full of great shopping, bars, restaurants, and beautiful ocean views. Though the weather was perfect for outdoor running, the amount of tourists and some scary, sun-fried locals made me cautious about running outside by myself. Alas, all the miles I logged while in Hawaii were on the hotel treadmill. Shout-out to Maui Brewing Company for having some delicious beers, and to the person who invented the Mai Tai.

The morning after I landed in Michigan, after sleeping in until 11am because I had just flown through a billion different time zones, Shawn whisked me away to a belated birthday brunch (oh yeah, I had a birthday while in Hawaii). Suspiciously, he grabbed our cat carrier before we departed. We had been casually looking at kittens available for adoption but suddenly I realized Shawn’s longing for a kitten was serious. He had something up his sleeve. After having lunch at the New Hudson Inn (they stopped serving breakfast at 11am, jerks), Shawn drove us to a local Pet Supplies Plus that was having an adoption event. Long story short- Laura spots black kitten, Laura holds black kitten, Shawn and Laura walk out with black kitten. Black kitten is now Widget.

During the joy that comes with raising a kitten, the first week Widget was in our home, I unfortunately missed some issues going on with our existing kitty, Beans. Shawn mentioned he didn’t eat much while I was in Hawaii but I selfishly attributed it to him being anxious that I was away. After Widget’s arrival Beans began to eat less, rarely use the litter box, and hid away from us. After the first couple days I blamed it on stress from the new kitten. But by mid-week I was concerned. He began vomiting regularly and showing absolutely no interest in food. He stopped purring, meowing, and acting like his normal cheerful self. By Thursday night I decided he needed immediate help and took him to the emergency vet in town. After examining him until 1:30am, it was found Beans had Pancreatitis, a UTI, and a possible mass showed up on an X-ray. My poor baby kitty had to spend all of Memorial Day weekend in the hospital recovering while Shawn, Widget, and I went up North to my parent’s home in Charlevoix for the first time in a year. It’s been over a week since Beans has been home, and I wish I could say he’s made a 100% recovery. However, he has a follow-up appointment tomorrow to find out for sure about that possible mass. In short, I’ve been an absolute mess. I blame myself for him getting sick and I just want my normal chatty, affectionate, goofy, kitty back.

In the midst of Beans’ illness, I ran my first race since my 50 miler, the Miles For Mankind Half Marathon in Westland, MI this past Saturday. I finished in a time of about 2:13ish, which while slow, was still my fastest half marathon time in over three years. To quote our current president: Sad! But it also gave me hope that faster times are ahead. Since this was a small race, my completely non-impressive time was somehow enough for me to win 3rd in my age group. I got a lovely green ribbon that you can see modeled by my Widget.

Before I knew it, May was completely over and June was upon me, leaving 13 weeks until my next 50 miler. I’m happy to report that in addition to the 13.1 miles I ran in Westland, I was able to log 48 total miles this past week. My butt is officially in gear. I have a lot more “life” being thrown at me lately- a sick kitty, a busy job, a house, a husband who sometimes appreciates having me around, but I’m determined to rock North Country in August.

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50 Miler End

I mean, can you think of a more fitting title? You read that right, my tens of readers- I, the Rum Runner, ran a 50 mile Ultra Marathon, The Indiana Trail 50 (actually it’s officially called the Indiana Trail 100 and all the merch had that printed on it despite there being a 50 mile and 100K and I found that super annoying).

“But isn’t that what you’ve been training so hard for since early January? Why do you act so surprised?” you are probably thinking to yourself (as well as “Why do I care? I have things to do”). When I look back, running for a very long time is what I trained to do. Actually FINISHING a 50 mile run for the first time is almost next to impossible to prepare for properly. I almost quit dozens of times. I was in immense pain. I felt angry. I felt frustrated. I felt hysterical. I sobbed into the arms of a complete stranger. It was miserable and horrendous and I can’t wait to do it all over again.

I won’t try to give a play-by-play of 14 hours of running. What I will do is break my experience down only the most important facts:

  • Poops taken? One
  • Shoes worn? Two, of course! One for each foot!
  • No smartass, I meant pairs of shoes! Only one pair, my Salomon Speedcross trail shoes.
  • How many blisters did you end up with? Only about two mild ones, despite wearing the same pair of shoes AND socks the entire run
  • Areas chafed? Surprisingly none, not even the usual offenders like the thigh chub rub and butt crack. The one application of Body Glide held out the entire run.
  • What the hell do you eat when running 50 miles?! For me, lots of cups of chicken noodle soup and flat Coke. That’s about all my stomach would tolerate. Once it let me eat a small piece of PB&J. My stomach did NOT like anything sugary, however, like candy or fruit. I also drank too much Tailwind in the beginning of my run which resulted in horrible tummy distress and eventually to my singular poop.
  • Tell me about the course! Okay! It was a very pretty state park with rolling hills and trails in the woods that were pretty technical without killing yourself. You only had to look out for the odd roots and rocks. But oh, was there ever MUD. The dirt in this park was mostly clay and the rain in the preceding days had turned most of the second loop of our run to a muddy, slippery, mess. There were at least five straight miles where running was just not an option.
  • Speaking of rain, how was the weather? Looking back, the weather was kind of perfect in terms of running. The temperature stayed around 50-55 the entire run which made it easy to dress for. There was some rain in the middle of our run but it wasn’t a downpour. However, towards the end of the 50 either it got colder or my body just quit functioning properly and I began shivering uncontrollably. Thank goodness for my rain coat.
  • Tell me about the aid station and volunteers! Let me tell you, The Indiana Trail 50 was more like a strolling buffet in the woods than an Ultra Marathon. Just kidding there was nothing easy about a single moment but those aid stations were STOCKED with goodies I couldn’t eat. Burgers, pierogis, bacon, donut holes, chocolate covered coffee beans…all that was missing was pizza and a nacho bar. The volunteers were amazing people. After about mile 30 the pain and fatigue pretty much turn you into a toddler unable to walk steadily or speak full sentences. Thankfully, the volunteers treated me as such. “Hi there you look so strong! Do you want me to fill up your water? Do you want a cookie? Does someone need a nap?” Okay I made that last part up but my point is they were super attentive and I couldn’t have made it to the finish without them.
  • Why the hell did it take you so long? Hey! Did you read the part about the mud? Also, from mile 39 until the end, every step became a small battle with my mind. At that point I was mentally exhausted and hating life. When my mind betrays me like that, it’s difficult for me to overcome and think positive and move fast. The last five miles of the race were pure hell. That’s when my anger turned to despair and I began randomly crying. At this point I was the last of my friends left on the course and I was feeling sorry for myself on top of the pain. I shuffled along in agony until Shawn found me a quarter mile away from the finish line, held my hand, and ran me in to the finish. It also took me so long because my lying-ass friends told me this was a FLAT RAIL TRAIL COURSE so there was no need to train on real technical trails. LOL!!!!!!! Fuck my friends. Also I’m just slow and dumb to begin with.
  • Why the hell would you want to repeat this hellish experience? Because I know what to expect now. Everyone tells you it will be hard but you won’t know how freakishly painfully hard it will be until you do it. Remember your first time running a marathon and you swore never again and then the pain went away and then you became determined to run another one faster and now you’ve done 13 and you’re not getting any faster but you just keep signing up for marathons like an idiot? Oh wait that’s just me. Now that I know what to expect in a 50 miler, I can plan better to prevent those rough times and, I don’t know, maybe run on a trail or two with some hills. Also, I kind of have no choice since remember that I am registered for the North Country Trail 50 in August.

Not to sound too corny, but I became a different person after running my 50 miles. I feel a certain confidence in my every day life I didn’t have before. My brain is probably thinking, “Well she went to hell and back, maybe giving a presentation in front of 50 people isn’t the worst that can happen.” I am actually looking forward to training for North Country and hopefully shaving a good hour off of my Indiana finishing time. I think 50 milers, if life allows, will not be a two-and-done occurrence for me. But nothing longer, that would just be stupid.* On that note, I’ll leave you with this joke:

How does a runner get through the woods?

On the psychopath!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*I once swore I’d never run a marathon too

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