Exercise Spells Happiness

For the last month or so, I've quit running.  Not altogether, but I'm certainly not running every day like I had been; maybe two reluctant runs a week.  It was painful, cold, boring and early.  It was much more pleasant to have another cup of coffee, sit on my ever-widening butt and check out Pinterest. (Which, by the way, is an even bigger time sucker than Facebook; it's like flipping through this HUMONGOUS magazine that never ends.) Also, there was Fat Pete's fudge, appetizers every time I turned around, comfort food for the family during snow storms and...this is the worst...cocktails every evening.  Of course, when one has cocktails (yes, more than one), the motivation to run the next morning at 6 a.m. in the dark and snow is pretty much non-existent.  To top it off, we couldn't seem to get organized to do yoga, so there went that workout.

The Boston 5 pounds had friends over.

And I haven't had my hair done in 6 months.
I'm a mess.

A mess on the mend.

This morning, I woke up pain free for the first time in at least a month!  And I wanted to run. I wanted it in a hungry way.  I NEEDED to run TODAY.

Got the kids fed, lunches packed, dogs situated, coffee made, email checked, then left.

I was sort of creaky.  I felt like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz...happy to be moving, just not moving really all that gracefully or fast.  Okay, I NEVER run all that gracefully or fast, but it was even worse this morning.

I started thinking creatively; planning books, sewing head bands, filing. It's tough to creatively file, so that was a stretch.

My brain was clicking away, my body was creaking away...I hit 3/4 of a mile and realized something:
I was enjoying myself!
It was like seeing an old friend, unexpectedly.
Gosh, it's been a long time since I enjoyed a run; the sunrise and the squeak of the snow under my shoes.
I warmed up, loosened up, lightened up (no more filing in my head) and really enjoyed the run. I kept it to an easy two miles because I was limited by time and also didn't want to break that little magic that had come back.  Now, it's an hour later and my body is STILL thanking me. Mostly because I'm finally drinking coffee, but still...

I don't know why my heart is so stubborn.  I found this last week that the more people talked about fitness goals, whole foods, signing up for marathons, posted workout motivational signs on Facebook,  blah, blah, blah, that instead of wanting to be part of that momentum, I wanted to be the opposite.  I'm sure you find that shocking.

I guess I'm writing this more as an accountability post than anything.  (In case you were wondering where I was going with it...)  I wanted to tell SOMEBODY that I had a good run, an enjoyable run.  I wanted to admit to my sloth, because writing it down makes it impossible to pretend it didn't happen.  I wanted to make sure I remembered where I'm starting from, again.

A mess on the mend.

Feed cows?

When Angus was much younger, he always tried to engage his dad in dinner conversation.  It would go something like this:

"So...how was your day?"
(Dad chews, in his own world...)
"Feed cows?"
(Kick under the table from Mom to Dad's shin...)
"Yep.  Fed cows."

If you were to ask Angus how HIS day went today and what he did, he'd say,
"Fed cows."
And that's what the whole family did this morning...
Feed cows.

Another thrilling blog post from the Farmer's Wife about....wait for it....
COWS!


Hoar frost on the trees and fences when we took off this morning...

Fuzzy barbed wire!

The bully-boys were nearly in the yard, indicating that we were neglectfully late with the grub. (We weren't.)

Little man, loading up...

Ready to go, Mom?

I'm sorry you can't see the utterly disgusted and obviously wronged face of the Irish Sitter, cast out in the snow.  How it's possible to look sad AND disdainful, I don't know, but Twilla's got it nailed.

Molly yells at us and lifts her paws up, one at a time, letting us know how desperately cold it is for good dogs.  Really, she wants to go in the pickup and thinks we should leave the kids home, instead.

Got the boys fed...

Breaking the ice in the bulls' water tank.

Throwing the ice out with a nifty strainer-type shovel....

And here's the pile from days gone by.  It just gets bigger and bigger through the winter!

This is the bunch of cows I run with, occasionally.  They didn't know what to make of me just standing there taking pictures.  There's something fishy about that sort of behavior...

Sneaking a snack before the bale is rolled out.
See the way the numbers are written on those ear tags?  We can usually tell who numbered the tag by the style of writing...I didn't do these tags...maybe Vern, because it looks like his "2"s.

Maggie was so delighted that the cows were rushing the pickup to get the cake!

The cake is neatly dispensed from the feeder mounted on the back of the pickup.  You could run the feeder in the middle of the summer with nothing in it and cows would come running from everywhere.  Kind of like me and an ice cream truck...

Hay.  It's what's for breakfast.

That itty-bitty reddish speck is Sparky's pickup.  He's looking for coyotes. 

Sparky usually accompanies the Farmer during feeding and they discuss guns, call coyotes, break motion sensor cameras, eat jerky, and (I'm certain of it) fart. 

The kids and I seriously cramped their style, this morning.

So we did what any good friend would do and sent one with HIM.
Actually, Angus went first.  This is right after we swapped kids with him.  I think they ate nearly his whole bag of deer jerky. This is fine; most days Sparky eats lunch with us and there aren't many leftovers, if you know what I'm sayin'...

Cow 739 steals cake!  She just boldly steps up to the feeder and fishes out whatever extra cake didn't get dumped with the last bunch.  Cheeky little thing! Well, she's no little thing, having thieved so much cake, but her audacity tickles the heck out of us.

You remember the prettiest cow in Montana, don't you?

Miss Daisy!!!

Let's pause for a moment and appreciate her beautiful bovine features...

(If you happen to run into my father-in-law on the street in Miles City, be sure to comment on how this little cow has improved the Lang's Fork herd, please.  Then take a picture of his face with your Smartphone for me.)

:)

One more...this time with her homely little pals. 

She DOES stand out, doesn't she?

What have we here?

"Mom! Guess what Aaron Carroll and I shot?!?!"

Sharp tail grouse!!!!

Nothing squeamish about this kid...

I had forgotten that sharp tails have hearts on their feathers.  Isn't that lovely?

And their backs look like pineapple!

Sparky and the Farmer, excitedly making plans to find the perfect gun for Maggie!  It's high time the girl had her own firearm!  PAST time!  (New project...this oughta be good.)

One last look at the girls before we head home!