Springfield/Saturday, Houston/New Year’s Day.  New Year’s marathoning schedule preplanned, jam-packed.  Out-with-the-old, 2019: in-with-the-new.  Airport awaiting.

Call from Ro’s kennel.  Pup’s been attacked.  Seems to be just fine but taking him to an emergency vet to look at one of the wounds.  Phoned Ash should they need follow-up, boarded my plane to Tulsa.  Post-midnite hotel, checked my cell.  No message.

Pup had multiple bite wounds – neck, flank, bum, leg, 2 large openings on his side, whole lotta bruising.  Stitches required for one gash, drain in the other large puncture.  20 minutes before my marathon Start.  Those were the words.  Ash’s a straight shooter.

Ok, guess I’m gonna run now?  21 degrees, cold & windy.  Head cluttered, spirit overwhelmed.  Replayed the conversation over-n-over.  Checked my Garmin, 3.3 miles.  Another lap of subdivision shorts – empty open asphalt or oncoming traffic.  2 laps, just over 10k.  Did the math.  8 loops.  Seriously?  How did I not know this?  Ear buds in place, tunes loud, focus required.  Throwaway gloves not doing the job, fingers numb/throbbing.

4 laps, 2:02 Half.  4 to go, then a 3 hour drive to Arkansas.  Visiting Mom & my Bro before flying to Houston.

Why am I running laps?  Why is it so cold in Missouri?  Why am I HERE?  Antibiotics, anxiety meds, pain pills every 8 hours.  Why did the kennel gloss over Ro’s injuries?  What would happen if Ash wasn’t local?  Holiday weekend – hotels, cars, flights all pre-booked.  Don’t care, gotta get home.

Lap 5.  Groin pull return.  Kentucky river plunge couple weeks past.  Running all December, injury never fully healed.  Conversation still rolling.  Southwest…so much 2018 flying, A-status gotta get me somewhere.  Cell phone car-abandoned, battery goes fast in the cold (never buy the upgrade).

Lap 6.  Water, short walk.  Turned the corner, turned around.  What the heck am I doing?  I’ll figure out the 50 State puzzle later – gotta get home.  RD at the timing mat.  Bib 73.  It’s cold, I’m done.

On paper, ended the year with a DNF.  Change-of-plans.

2 flights cancelled.  No Houston Start, Colorado HOME New Year’s Eve.  Return ticket secured.

I’ve finished 138 of these, nothing to prove.  33 marathons in 2018 alone.  Lick our wounds, run another day.  Parental digs in Ft Smith, my Flatirons spot afternoon next.

It’s a New YEAR.  Folks, I’m going HOME.