Lots of people out there running this weekend in warm weather. It was pretty brutal back east, I understand, for a couple of friends I had running races there. In these parts, it was in the 70s, which is bad enough when running for any length of time. My 22-miler yesterday was harder than it needed to be, even, considering that I screwed up hydration again; when I took what I expected to be a nearly empty 64-ounce bladder out of my hydration pack, I found it was still almost halfway full. 
Gee, no wonder I felt like I was going to throw up around the 20-mile mark. At least I finished, without losing my breakfast and without collapsing. I probably could even have gutted out the extra miles to have made it a full marathon, but I’m glad I didn’t have to put that to a test. I really think carrying a handheld bottle with an electrolyte solution, besides my hydration pack, for Devil’s Lake is going to be a good idea. I don’t really like carrying a bottle, but it does remind me to drink more often, and I can always ditch it at an aid station later in the game, once I’m assured that things are going to be fine.
Just mowed the back yard. Another sign of warm weather’s return, and certainly one I could do without. Yuck. I could so live in a place without a yard, happily and contentedly, for the rest of my life. I don’t like gardening, I don’t like maintaining green space, and I really don’t like getting sweaty and dirty for what I see as a not very good reason. Nature should be able to take care of itself, as far as I’m concerned. 
But then Eric reminds me of bugs and rodents and other things that would also love for us to just let nature tend to itself around our house, and, well, out comes the mower. (And my bad attitude.)
Hey, speaking of nature, just a little bit ago, Sam and his neighborhood friends started frantically ringing our doorbell; apparently, a “crazy squirrel” was chasing them! And there it was, sitting on the steps of our porch: a baby squirrel, obviously very confused and not at all inclined to scurry off, no matter what noises Eric made at it. (I sat safely on the other side of the porch window, having seen America’s Funniest Home Videos enough to know what could happen next. Wildlife is wild, y’all.) He picked up a chair as though he was going to…bullfight it? Man, do I wish my camera batteries hadn’t been dead. Anyway, the squirrel was even more confused, and it ducked its little head down a step, while still maintaining an obvious curiosity about what this man would do next. A moment later, two neighbors strode up, drinks in hand. One held out an elbow to the squirrel…and it climbed on. 
According to the guy, this squirrel, among a group of other baby squirrels, was orphaned, so they were gathering them up. He walked away with it perched on his arm. I was too slow on the uptake to ask where he was taking it.
Weird, weird world, come the middle months.
