It's a Boy!!!!

We are thrilled to announce the arrival of Monty (named after Inigo Montoya)!

Our newest addition has already brought much joy - he is a sweet, little, soft ball of happiness - and Fezzy is a wonderful, caring, helpful older brother.

We've loved watching the last few days unfold - though they have seemed too easy.

But another reason why we should all try to be a bit more like our dogs...

Why I Love To Run - By TRIgirl 40 Something

I love to run...

Uhmmm....

Uhmmm...

Uh....

Fezzy and Buttercup, can you come back here?

Why I Love to Run - By Fezzy

I love to run...

• To chase Daddy's old handballs.
• To partake in the "Bichon Buzz."
• To celebrate my daily constitutional.
• To build up enough momentum to get anywhere in deep snow.
• To say hello to other dogs and people (because my feelings are hurt if they don't want to meet me).

Braving the Big Water Dish - By Fezzy and Buttercup

There is my leash! There are our leashes, let's go, Buttercup.

Hmmm, OK, But don't jump on me, Fezzy.

There's Mommy, Buttercup! Lounging in the big water dish next door!

I know Fezzy, she spotted me first.

Buttercup, come roll in the grass with me!

Oooh, Fezz, what did you find - that smells delightful!

Why is Daddy yelling at me to put down a dead mouse, Buttercup?

I don't know, but I just got yelled at for eating poop.

Let's get closer and check out the big water dish, Buttercup.

Nah, you go ahead, Fezz, I've got some poop hunting to do.

Wowoweee, who is picking me up? Why is Mommy grabbing me and placing me on some big pillow in the water dish? It is not so easy to stand. OK. I will sit. The big pillow is moving - I am glad Mommy is near. There is Daddy! OK, maybe I will lie down. Hmmm - this is kind of nice. I feel the wind, let me sniff it. Buttercup - do you see what I am doing! Buttercup, stop rolling on the dead mouse before mom and dad yell at you!

Huh, what? Oh, there you are Fezzy. Why are you on the big pillow in the big water dish?

Here, I will come over to the edge of the dish and tell you, Buttercup. Hey, where did Mommy go?

Looks like you lost your pillow, Fezzsster, because Mommy wanted to give me a head rub. Oh no - what is going on? I did not want to be on the big pillow! Uh, uh, I am too old for this. I must lie down. Wait, this really is just like a big pillow, even though it is in a water dish. I love pillows. I can do this!

Buttercup, it is my turn! Grrrr - hey Buttercup - watch this - want some poop?

I Am Not a Stuffed Animal - By Fezzy

Nor a girl.

Though I tolerate being called both for all the cuddles I receive...

because I am...

SO CUTE.

When you see the pictures my Aunt Mel took of me, how can you argue?

Favorite Gifts

Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday!

For the past few years, one person or another in my immediate family has suggested scaling back for Christmas, celebrating more simply. But it has yet to really happen. A special present one year, a good year financially the next, the plans are usually thwarted before the Christmas trees are decorated. This year was no different.

But my favorite Christmas presents this year were not the most expensive ones (though I did love them, too).

Given how well I’ve treated myself during this Ironman year, between race fees and new equipment, I told my husband not to worry about me for Christmas, except for one thing. Something I didn’t even realize I wanted/needed this year until we put up the tree and I noticed the many different wire fox terrier ornaments we’d collected over the years – but alas, no bichons! I couldn’t believe it – Fezzy has been with us over a year and we did not have one ornament for him. Maybe it was because he was a surprise around Christmas time last year. Or maybe it was because we decided to not put up a tree last December.

And so, my husband listened. A week or so before Christmas, there was a package waiting on the stoop with two adorable bichon ornaments. Our tree seems much more complete and pretty with these latest additions.

On Christmas Eve, my brother and sister-in-law gave my husband and me a beautiful glass ornament honoring our sweet Wesley who crossed over to the Rainbow Bridge in May 2006. Between the hand-painted picture capturing Wesley’s spunky eyes and cute face – and a “forever in our hearts” message – I think I teared up for about 10 minutes. They also gave an ornament to my mom and dad for Shelby, another fox terrier that shared our home and memories.

Then, Christmas Day, the hubby and I were to be traveling I95 while most folks would still be celebrating. My crazy and wonderful family rushed around to squeeze in one more get together before the road trip back to Virginia. And in the midst of a quick meal and packing the car, my brother and sister-in-law gave us another thoughtful surprise - a frame with Fezzy and Buttercup’s pawprints pressed carefully on one side – and room for a special picture on the other. I’m already debating where to display it (after I figure out which pictures to use)!

Presents that remind me of my furkids – what could be better?

Please Vote for Mommy - by Fezzy

Mommy has been very busy lately trying to keep up with work and life in general - so I've had a chance to sneak onto the computer and tell you all that her blog has been nominated for an RVA 2k7 Blog Award by the ever so awesome Triathlonmom. She is very flattered and is so honored to be listed among such talented writers.

Go take a look - blogs by Triathlonmom (Near West End News) and TRIgirl Cyndi (Simply Tri-ing) have also been nominated!

And please vote for them all. The more time Mommy blogs, the less time she will be gone working or training!

Training Goals - By Fezzy

Lately, Mommy has been doing all this crazy talk about training goals for me and her.

Everyday, I remind her with my super good behavior about how quickly I learned to go into my crate when Mommy and Daddy are leaving the house. Mommy has never had a furkid that she didn't have to chase down, with elaborate traps and fast reflexes, when it was crate time. I totally shocked her when I just followed the treat she held for me in the crate and plopped my cute little self down. Now, sometimes I can even guess when Mommy is about to leave and just head right on in - waiting oh so patiently for my biscuit and fuzzy toy.

You would think that would be enough, but Mommy had decided that it is time for a new goal for me - something about not jumping all over people when they walk in the house. I am choosing to ignore her lessons as they seem stupid. I am only showing how excited I am to see my favorite people or to meet someone new. I am hoping to train Mommy on this one.

But, I'll give her a little slack, as I've heard her mumbling about whether she should try to plan for more specific training goals. She is wondering if her current attempts to just survive a workout or even her loosely defined aspirations to "be a little faster" should be thought through a little more.

And the more she thinks about her training goals, hopefully the less she will think about mine.

Fezzy vs. the Steps - by Fezzy

I have been a bit annoyed at Mommy recently.

After being gone all day at work and workouts, she finally comes home. She gives me a little bit of attention and then it is time to go upstairs to bed.

She used to scoop me up and kiss me all the way up the stairs. I would try to bite her nose or lick her ears in return.

But lately, she calls Buttercup and me, and says "Upstairs!"

Then she is gone,

WITHOUT ME,

and Buttercup gives me a sideways glance as she follows Mommy.

I would do a little tap dance, tilting my head ever so cutely. I would bark to remind Mommy that she forgot me. And up until now, Mommy would eventually come down to carry me up the stairs.

Well, today, Mommy isn't coming back down.

I see her peeking around the door and I hear her saying "Come on, Fezzy!"

I am waiting for you to come and get me, I bark at Mommy.

"Come on, Fezzy!"

Mommy seems very far away. I am so little. The stairs are so tall and scary.

But I know how to jump up one step - I've been doing that ever since I was a puppy to get into our playroom with all my toys.

I can even go up four steps. I learned that trick on our front stoop.

But, there are many, many steps to get to Mommy. I prop my front legs on the bottom step, but don't know what to do next.

OK, maybe I will try just a little push. Up go my back legs.

Hmmm - let me try that again. Front legs, back legs. I am past the second step!

I suddenly have momentum and am flying up the rest.

Before I know it, I am dancing in front of Mommy.

She scoops me up, gives me kisses - and I lick her ears.

As long as I don't have to go downstairs, I'll be OK. For now, I am tired and ready for bed.

Zzzzzzz.

Indulgences

In many ways, I am a major tree hugging liberal. I don't mind (too much) paying taxes. I think quality education - whether public, private or home-based - is the key to our future. (As an ex-special education teacher, I cringe when people complain about teacher salaries.) I am a strong proponent of striving to make our environment as good, if not better, for future generations.

Give me a good book and wonderful music and I'll trade you our high definition television (just don't tell my husband).

I love to be surrounded by nature, whether experiencing a gorgeous sunset, an invigorating hike through the mountains - or even a walk through the neighborhood with Fezzy and Buttercup.

Though please make sure there is bathroom with plumbing somewhere within walking distance.

And, boy oh boy, am I a sucker for a good massage or a few hours in a hot tub.

My generous and kind neighbors have just invited me over for some hot tubbing. And my plans to stay home, while the hubby is out of town, to clean my closets, have flown out the window. My only goals now are to resist the temptation to drink too much wine or to stay out past 10:00 since we have a mega workout tomorrow starting at 7:00 am.

Before and After

Alas, this is not a post about amazing triathlon related makeovers.

Sweet Fezzy, at just over five months old, completed his puppy shots yesterday. Assured he would not catch kennel cough or some other puppy ailment, we scheduled his first grooming for today. All the way home from swimming, I was smiling thinking about his transformation.

Check out his before picture:




















And his after shot:



















He is absolutely adorably handsome with his new haircut. It is nice to see his expressive eyes - and to actually be able to detect his little tail wagging. And there is nothing like the smell of a freshly groomed furkid.

But I have to say, I loved his sheepdog style, too.

Surviving the Repeats

It is over. For this week, anyway.

I made it through this morning’s workout due in part to:

• An observation made last night during a play session with Fezzy. As I threw his various toys about 50 feet across our house, I watched his exuberance and joy as he charged down his stuffed frog and squirrel. He happily ran as fast as he could – and while his splayed leg transition turns may need some technique work, his efforts made me smile. He played long and hard – never giving up the chase. And made me realize that maybe I needed to approach the repeats with a little less of a “training” perspective – and with more with a “hey, let’s go for it” kind of spirit.
• An email from my sister-in-law – whose twin daughters are competitive – and I mean like regional and national caliber – swimmers. From the email “Good luck with tomorrow's workout! If it makes you feel any better, the girls will already be in the pool at 6 am, which means a 5:15 am rise time, 15 minutes later than they do all week for school. They will swim and do dryland until 8:30 am.” And it did make me feel better. I remembered being their age – and sleeping late on weekends till 10 or 11 o’clock – and thought – if they can have such discipline and commitment at their young ages, the least I can do is stop whining and work on a better attitude.

So, I went to bed fairly early. When the alarm buzzed at 6:15, I stole a few extra winks, but resisted the urge to find some sort of excuse to stay in bed until bike class. During the car ride, I chuckled as the car temperature gauge dropped from 28 to 22 degrees - when I pulled into the Maramarc parking lot, a few minutes late, but before the group had headed off to start the run drills.

First was the timed mile. Honestly, it was cold. It was tough. My breathing was less than great. And I wouldn’t have minded stopping about half-way through. But I finished with a more consistent pace than some earlier attempts and with a 20 second gain after the first drill in December – an 8:20 mile time.

After a few minutes rest, it was time to start the four half miles. My first one was rather awful – a 4:30. The next three were consistent, better and within an acceptable deviation from my target pace - 4:19, 4:20 and 4:18.

My legs were a wee bit more tired than usual during the subsequent hour and a half bike. And afterwards, while heading to TRIgirl coffee, I realized, in the midst of the relief that the workout was over, that I was relishing the idea of a nap.

An idea I happily indulged a few hours later.

Battle Wounds

“What happened!” has been the reaction of several folks who have seen me in a bathing suit the past two days.

Lovely bruises of various colors, shapes and sizes decorate my hips and upper thighs – with very nice symmetry on both sides of my body.

I wish I could say they resulted from an impressive bike crash or from an over zealous pre-Super Bowl game of football. I can’t even blame a fall down the stairs or some other more normal cause.

Instead, this Pollock style body art is due to the hour and a half I spent in my neighbor’s hot tub on Friday night – rotating from side to side in front of a powerful set of jets. What felt wonderful at the time must have been a little too much for me – as I’ve been bruised by a four pound Fezzy walking on my arms to wake me in the morning.

Anyone know of remedies to help bruises heal quickly?

Snow! Snow! Snow!

Or not. Or maybe not yet.

All I know is that after last night's weather report and a few emails back and forth with Coach G, I was looking forward to a run this morning with dainty little flurries drifting by my face. I’ve read other bloggers’ recent postings about a jog through the snow – and thought it sounded so whimsical and lovely.

Instead, I had a later than planned start due to a slightly upset tummy. I did make it to the course, but must have arrived between the TRIgirl groups – because it was me and about 10 other non-TRIgirl folks, braving the elements (aka a cold, but not bitterly so, 7 o’clockish run, with about twenty snowflakes total if I counted the tiny little white droplets that I could see by squinting at the still mostly dark sky).

Less than stable stomach and all, I had a decent run, with a warm up mile at a 10:12 pace, mile two at a 9:43 pace and mile three at a 9:10 pace. I fit in one ½ mile repeat at a 4:13 pace. Considering I missed Tuesday’s run because my body needed a break and yesterday’s workout due to a work commitment that went longer than expected, I felt that I was getting back on track (no pun intended) and was close to meeting my target paces.

After the run, I went to work, still waiting for the predicted white stuff to start falling. A few hours later, the much anticipated snowflakes began to twinkle down. So much so that I thought the bad weather might interfere with the evening's wine club. So much so that during an email exchange with Coach B – I wrote that I hoped the snow would end in time for Saturday’s workout – and he told me that a trail run in the snow would be great fun. So much so that I was looking forward to getting home to see how Fezzy would react to snow.

Well, as of now, looking outside my window to a completely dry and clear evening, it seems that the weatherman was a bit off. But part of me is still hopeful that maybe it is a timing issue, and I could wake up tomorrow to a big ole blizzard!

Take it Easy – by Buttercup

Finally, it is my turn to post to Mommy’s blog.

My cardinal rule, ever since puppydom, has been to conserve energy. You see, I am a terrier, but not your typical high-strung type-A terrier. Instead, I selectively choose my exertions – for example, when squirrels or groundhogs invade the yard.

I have been trying to teach this principle to both Fezzik and Mommy.

When Mommy takes Fezzik and me for a walk, Fezzik is absolutely inefficient in his energy use. He spends way too much time circumventing around Mommy or bounding from my left to right side, trying to get my attention. I try to teach him proper strolling by ignoring his juvenile pranks, as I hold my head up high and prance about in a dignified fashion in front of Mommy. Never pulling - and only deviating from a noble stance if there is something nasty and irresistible to roll in. As I am nine years his senior, I will give him a little more time to assimilate my philosophy.

Now, Mommy should know better. Today she was supposed to do a four mile run at her easy pace of 11:30 per mile. Instead, she, TriGirl Devil Face and Molly Who? averaged a 10:30 pace for their 4 mile run.

So, I was very relieved to hear Mommy received a “talking to” after today’s run about the value of following rules, especially regarding energy conservation. Coach M emphasized the importance of practicing her easy pace so that when she starts running 15-18 miles, she will not gradually poop out, as she has been known to do during the last few miles of her half marathons.

I will be watching Mommy carefully over her next few workouts. Fezzik, on the other hand, well, I have my ways of keeping him in check.

Fezzy and Mommy’s Water Adventures – by Fezzy

Mommy’s home!

I hear the garage door open and know it means Mommy is home, since Daddy, the Butt and I are all hanging out together in the backyard. Mommy walks outside and I am so happy – I start bounding about around her feet. The Butt runs over, too, for a head rub. Then it is my turn. Mommy picks me up and I know I am about to get tons of kisses.

But Daddy tattles on me as Mommy starts sniffing the air. Though I was a very good boy and made it through the morning with a dry crate, I just couldn’t hold it long enough in the afternoon. My crate is so tiny; I accidentally stepped in the mess a few times.

Mommy leaves for a few minutes and comes back in different clothes. She picks me up and tells me I am about to have my first bath. I don’t really know what a bath is, but Mommy carries me over to the sink, right near where my treats are, so I figure it has to be good!

Mommy turns on the water. She does that when she feeds me, so I am really happy and excited now.

Suddenly, Mommy is putting ME under the water. I am not one bit happy anymore.

MOMMY

I

DON’T

LIKE

THIS!!!!

I wiggle and cry and make the most pitiful sounds I can muster. But Mommy is just laughing at me and telling me it is going to be OK.

IT IS NOT OK, I DON’T LIKE THE WATER!

I squirm and shake and Mommy tells me if I relax, it will be so much easier.

I DON’T CARE, I HATE THIS BATH THING.

Finally, Mommy turns the water off. She seems sad because I am shivering. She wraps me up in a towel. I am still traumatized, but happy that I am out of the water.

Then we go upstairs and Mommy takes out the big plastic toy she points at her hair everyday. She turns it on and starts aiming it at ME!

Suddenly it is very windy and Mommy is brushing me. This isn’t as bad as the water, but it is also not nearly as good as playing or eating.

The wind continues for a long time. When it stops, Mommy finally gives me all the kisses I’ve been waiting for and tells me how handsome I am. I start to forgive her and cuddle up around her neck as we head back downstairs.

Mommy holds me close as she sits on the couch and begins to talk to Daddy. Yawn, this bath thing has made me very tired, so I curl up in her lap, as close as I can to her warm tummy.

I hear her tell Daddy that she was in the water, too, this morning. I perk up my ears, concerned - poor Mommy! But Mommy goes on to talk about swimming in the water - and it sounds like she enjoyed it. She had something called a guppy lesson before she went to work. At first she was worried, because she had two exercise classes the day before and didn’t know if she would be too sore to move. She tells Daddy that the class went very well. When swimming was finished, her coach, Ironwoman Canada, was speaking with her and a mutual friend and said that Mommy’s stroke was “looking beautiful,” though not terribly fast yet (I believe it - because it sounds just like when Mommy strokes my fur!).

Mommy seems happy with the news. And I wonder if there is hope that I can begin liking the water – I just need to find out more about how I can have a beautiful swim stroke, too.

Yawn.

The Best Excuse

I skipped yesterday’s run.

I could blame it on Thanksgiving preparations or the chilly weather, but actually there was a much better reason.

Earlier in the week, my husband told me about a party Sunday afternoon in Norfolk. We hit the road around 4 o’clock and about an hour and a half later, arrived at a huge and lovely home. Only a few cars were parked, so I wondered if we had the right time. We rang the bell, and a young guy answered the door – and my husband called him by a different name than the friend we were going to see. I thought, "Could this be the friend’s son?"

The house was beautiful inside, too. But there were no people. I started mumbling something, when the “friend’s son” said, “I don’t think she gets it” and my husband responded “no, she thinks this is a party.” Then the cutest little white furball was picked up – and I understood – my husband surprised, and I mean really surprised, me with a new puppy.

It was the best Christmas present ever.

We took the little guy home and tried to think of names. My husband wanted something manly and tough (the pup is a Bichon and will probably only get to be about 10-12 pounds). I suggested, mostly joking, “Ironman” and my husband rolled his eyes. The furball was sooo good on the ride, cuddling the whole way. No accidents – and the only time he got scared was when we went through a tunnel.

He did really well when introduced to his big fursister, the Butt. We finally picked a name – Fezzik (fuzzy Fezzy, the Fezzster).

Both furkids continue learning about each other. There have been a few really cute moments, Fezzy chewing on the Butt’s tail, the Butt trying to hump Fezzy in alpha dog fashion, only to discover he was too little, Fezzy nibbling on the Butt’s ear, the Butt running back and forth from the door to our back room to let me know Fezzy was in his crate and crying.

I took “furternity” leave for a few days (nice that it is a short week) and worked from home when I didn’t have meetings. An announcement was sent to family and friends about the newest addition. My parents, brother and his new wife are coming down in a few days and can’t wait to see their new furgrandchild/furnephew.

So anyway, yesterday morning I was supposed to go for a run before work. I woke up, with the Butt curled up by my feet and little Fezzik sleeping soundly in the crook of my neck (he is really little) – and said – think this will be a guilt-free, off season, skip a workout day.

I enjoyed every moment not running.