October 14, 2008 7:00 am
Meet Chloe, our four year old Foxhound mix. Chloe has boundless energy, she can run all day long and never stop. She paces the house endlessly, often to the point where I scream at her to lay down SOMEWHERE, ANYWHERE because she drives me fucking nuts. Chloe is a daddy’s girl, she stalks Jamie to no end and paces back and forth looking for him if he’s unavailable. Her favorite activities include stalking Graham when he has food in his hands, stalking Graham’s high chair when she thinks I’m not looking and stalking any remaining food dropped on the floor or left on the counter in hopes that we’ll let her have it. We won’t.
We adopted Chloe from the Humane Society three years ago last month. She has her share of problems, she had been to three different homes in her short eleven months and we made the decision to stick by her for the long haul when we brought her home. This includes several failed training methods, two stints in doggy bootcamp and several vet trips for intestinal ailments from eating unknown objects. BTW, doggy X-Rays are not cheap and we’ve had to get them a few times over the years when Chloe has gotten into some unknown thing and has turned up sick. At this point, anything bad Chloe does is directly our fault since having children has caused us to pay less attention to Chloe (and her brother Bailey) and more to the human children. Her brattiness causes me to have a love/hate relationship with her but I tend to lean more to the love side on most days.
For the past two years, I have been outsourcing all of my exercising to Chloe. Putting her on the treadmill helps drain her energy and keeps us from having to take her on an hour long walk (which we don’t have time for). When we open the treadmill, she hops on and patiently waits for us to start it up (I put her on at 5.4MPH, Jamie puts her on at 4MPH). She will happily run forty-five minutes and is usually still running when we come to relieve her. There are days when she just doesn’t want to run and hops off the instant we leave the room but can you blame her?
Since I’ve been outsourcing my fitness obligations to Chloe, my ass hasn’t hit a gym or worked out at all since before Graham was born. Actually, since we got married in July of 2005. That’s a long time with no exercising and it shows. There were a few failed eliptical attempts but they were short lived. I didn’t see the point in getting back into shape between kids since I was just going to get pregnant again. Now that Elliot is approaching six months, it’s time I got off of my fat ass. Why am I sharing this? Well I figured if I put this stuff into writing then it kind of makes it concrete. Since you guys know I’m supposed to be exercising, I might actually do it. You’re my bloggy moral compass. So is there anyone else out there who needs to get their butts into shape? Do you think you guys could kick me off of my computer at night and tell me to get on the treadmill? Please? I’d like to be alive to meet my grandchildren someday so I really need to do something….
Once I take over exercising, Goldilocks here can get back to lounging.