Meet Huevo

Picture it: you're leaving a wedding reception in downtown Orlando, dressed in fancy clothes and full of lunch and sweets.  You see a tiny baby bird on the sidewalk, flapping its wing stumps, mouth open wide with no sound coming out. 

Welcome to the moment where my life temporarily turned on its ear.

I looked around for a frantic bird momma, and when I didn't see her I scooped up the baby.  Scott and I eventually found the nest, about 10-15 feet up a tree.  I left the chick with Scott and went back into the restaurant we had just left to see if they had access to a ladder.  Apparently they did, but couldn't let me use it because of liability issues.  I called Animal Control, but they were closed.  We sat on a bench, Scott still holding the tiny (now sleeping) chick, and tried to come up with a game plan.  We figured our only options were to put the bird back in the grass at the base of the tree and pretend the mother would realize it was there and take care of it, or take it with us and try to come up with a better plan.  You know, one where the bird lived through the night.

It was a long car ride home, especially since every time I talked the little dude would start begging again!  I texted my mom and got the recipe for baby bird food that we used when I was little and we raised wild baby birds.  Recipe in hand, we stopped at the store and I sat in the car while Scott went in for the most random shopping list ever: hard-boiled egg, wheat germ, canned dog food, and liquid baby vitamins.  We got him home, built him a nest (which he promptly pooped in), fed him, and then tried to figure out the next step.

It's been two days, and we're still sort of dealing with him one day at a time.  I named him Huevo, and since he's a blackbird (or some other type of black bird), Scott decided Huevo Negro was better.  Mostly, he just answers to "PEEP!"

Huevo's left leg is either broken or dislocated (you can see the bump in the bottom picture), and judging by his lack of feathers and closed eyes, I'm pretty sure he's less than a week old.  For this reason, I decided not to immediately try to research wildlife rehab centers.  I have a pretty strong feeling that he would be too much work for a non-profit.  If he survives to the point where his wings feather up and he gets a little mobility, then I'll find him a new foster family. 

Realistically, I don't think he's going to make it.  And I've been crying about that multiple times a day since we found him.  But I'm certainly not going to give up on him.  He eats enthusiastically, peeps when he's hungry, poops when he's not, and flaps his little wings when the food is too slow getting from the bowl to his mouth.  It's pretty normal.  So for now, I'll just be in love with this tiny, fuzzy, bug-eyed baby and worry about him 18 times a day.



he fell asleep sitting up after Scott fed him



his wing feathers are sprouting



Sidelined

First of all, you're welcome. 

See, more than anything, I want to document in large-format digital photos the horrible wounds I have on my feet.  But I'm not going to, so you're welcome.

...I didn't say I wasn't going to talk about them though, so feel free to click away now.  If you leave, here's a random Classic Jamie political post instead.

Scott and I visited Typhoon Lagoon on Monday, and I took a wave in the wave pool... I guess you could say poorly.  Somehow I got pushed a fair distance, dragging the tops of my feet along the concrete bottom.  I got scrapes on the side of my left foot, and the outside of my right big toe.  Since they were only scrapes, and since I was in a big old vat of chlorine, I ignored the stinging and kept on diving under the waves.

Tuesday morning, I bandaged up my wounds and headed off to run two miles at the gym (14.44 minute mile, my new PB).  Wednesday, I skipped the gym because I had to work early, but then walked 2.5 miles outside with Scott at the Walking League.  And then I came home and cried.  It turns out I'd gotten very good at ignoring the scrapes on my feet and hadn't paid attention to the pain or the oozing.

The scrape on my big toe is long and ugly, but a bandage is keeping it covered and it doesn't look that bad.  The one on my left foot, on the other hand, is about the size of a pencil eraser, and is currently a crater 1/2 full of green.  It reminds me of every skinned knee or elbow I had in my entire childhood.  The appearance icked Scott out enough that he actually smelled it tonight.  Good news: my feet aren't too stinky, and my wound doesn't smell like the garbage can.  That side of the foot feels badly bruised though, which is what worries me.  I realized this afternoon that my normal work shoes have an edge right about where this non-scab is, which is probably why I was weepy all morning.  Tomorrow I'm wearing my old shoes with a different shape.

Scott, upon having to baby me last night, suggested I skip the gym today.  And I did, though I hated (not) doing it.  He thinks my feet don't need to be squeezed in the shoes, and that my skin needs a few days off to actually scab over.  I'm following orders, but I'm already feeling sluggish.  I'm sidelining myself until Monday at the latest, unless this morphs into a doctor-worthy injury.

Looking Back and Looking Ahead

Spring 2012 GPA: 3.84
This is officially the highest GPA I've had in my collegiate life (previous part-time summer semesters were both in the 3.6 area), and I freaking earned it!  I realized before I started my final labor class project that anything from a 76-100% was still going to earn me an A-, and that really took the pressure off.  I admit that I phoned in that last project (I got an 83), but sometimes there's just no benefit to busting your butt.  Oh, and my psychology final grade was a 96.  I don't think I've ever rocked a class so hard!  Speaking of busting my butt...

May 1: 2 Miles in 31m 33s
Sure that's a snail's pace for anyone in the moderate fitness range, but this was my first time doing run-walk intervals for a full 30 minutes (plus a little to finish that second mile).  These were 10s run-50s walk intervals, and I finished feeling strong, like I could've done another mile before passing out and sliding off the treadmill.  Oh, this time also averages less than a 16 minute mile, which is race pace.  Not bad for just a month of pseudo-training!  Two down, eight to go!

I'm not really losing any weight to speak of.  As of this morning, I'm still down just 6 pounds from when I started.  But I'm only really doing cardio two days a week right now, and since I'm doing two days of weight training, I'm buying into the "you're building muscle, which will burn more fat in the long run" propaganda.  Who knows what the truth is?  Some days I love it, other days I trudge through.  Ironically enough, it's the running days I really enjoy.  Who would've thought a month ago that would be the case?

February 2013: Where Will You Be?
I've been thinking for a while that if training for the 10-miler is going well in July, I'll probably sign up for the Princess 1/2 Marathon.  (umm...registration starts in July...thought I should clarify the random month)  My boss has run the Princess before, and said if I signed up she would do it too.  And just by mentioning it to two high school friends last night on Facebook (and following it up with a picture of the finisher medal on Pinterest), I think I might actually have made two new running buddies.  Who doesn't love the idea of running in a tiara??

So, it's been just about a month in the gym, 40-60 minutes per day, 4 days per week.  I feel good and strong, I know my endurance has improved, and I have more confident days that I'll meet my goal than doubting days.  I'm pretty sure that unless I really start dieting I won't meet my weight loss goal, but who knows what the next 5 months will bring? Here's some dates circled on my calendar:

First day of Summer semester: May 13
First "official" training day on the Galloway training plan: May 29
Registration opens for the Princess 1/2: July 10

Last day of Summer semester: August 8
Happy Birthday Scott: August 26
First day of Fall semester: August 27
Last day for $100 weight loss bonus: September 15
Tower of Terror 10-miler: September 29