Disappointment
Get the popcorn, here's my sad tale [P[P[P
The local (90 miles away) dragstrip runs roughly every other week. Two weeks ago I have everything packed and ready to go for early Saturday morning.
Friday afternoon it looks like my 14 year old friend, Willie the arrogant Standard Poodle is dying. He is panting just lying on the floor. I had to help him to his feet so he could go outside to do his duty. Willie isn't happy to have me lifting his arthritic front quarters and hind quarters to get him standing. Bit me three times. Doesn't take me long to catch on, I put a heavy jacket on so he could bite the sleeve and not me. Like you see in the police dog training films.
So I stayed home to take care of Willie in his last hours. Of course, by Sunday he had recovered but I missed Saturday Test and Tune.
Yesterday I had everything packed and ready for another assault on the strip. My friends Lee & Terry were hoping to run in the 9's for the first time ever, having run a 10.18 two weeks prior. I was excited to crack well into the 10's based on some advice from my drag racing brother in Kansas.
About midnight I took the 3 dogs out for their "last call". Me too, if you must know. We 4 came in the house and I kicked off my left shoe. When I kicked off my right shoe an excruciating jolt of pain shot from my ankle to my hip, almost dropping me to the floor. It has happened twice before in the last three years so I knew (or assumed) it wasn't going to be the end of me.
Took 10 minutes to make it up the stairs & several more minutes to make it into bed. With each step it felt like an electric shock was going through my leg. I did find a sleeping position that didn't hurt too much. About 3:00am my eyes popped open and that scourge of many old men was apparent; a bathroom call. Each step was accompanied by a muffled gasp as the pain stabbed through my lower leg. Finally made it back to bed with the realization that another attempt to go racin' was over.
So here I sit, in front of my dusty old 'puter, whining like the immature 70 year old baby that I am. Looking for sympathy from by cyber-buddies.
The last Test and Tune of the season is in two weeks. Already I'm dreading what might happen.
All hooked up and unable to go.