Smells Like Bacon

I burnt the bacon this morning. A dark, smelly cloud pushed into every crevice in our house and deep into the roots of my hair.

So, what’s the big deal? I do stuff like that all the time.

Well, I burnt the bacon, because it was my Pretend Day Off. You see, our company has adopted a 9/80-work schedule. That means that we work 80 hours in 9 days and take the 10th day off (every other Friday).

Sounds great, right? It would be, but there’s a catch. Most of my co-workers never take that day off. THEY STILL WORK.

Early this morning on my Pretend Day Off, one of my co-workers called just as I’d thrown some bacon in the oven. Well, I got distracted talking to him and, you know, working when I realized that the smell of burnt bacon was tickling my scalp.

I ran to the kitchen to find the mess I’d made. I quickly cleaned it up and made another batch for Sarah. A batch that she refused to eat. Agghghghgh!!!

I stunk, Sarah stunk, the house stunk, and the bacon was uneaten. But it was my Pretend Day Off, so I was going to get in a trail run. I dropped Sarah off at her school to play while I ran, and felt a little bad about the bacon scent that I left lingering.

Once on the trail, I forgot about the scent. I forgot about work. I forgot about everything. That is the beauty of trail running. Movement, solitude and beauty transport me to a world free of burnt bacon.

I was completely in the groove running through the forest. Oblivious to everything except the ribbon of ice and snow that leads me forward. That is until I notice Lola slow down and take on her alert form, tail stiff and ears perked. I know this means she’s sensed something on the trail. Her senses are strong and accurate. I can trust what she tells me. Sancho not so much. He’s usually only aware of mealtimes, his green rubber football and my lap. So, it’s weird that he’s hurried to my side and is pushing himself very close to my body. (Note: this should not be taken as any indication of his desire to protect me. He is a chicken. Remind me to tell you about the time that he ran AWAY from deer. He was at my side, because he was hoping for protection from me.)

Anyway, I came out of my trance and started scanning for what had set off my dogs. In the trees I found a RAGING, SNARLING, BLACK COUGAR!

Just kidding. There was only a curious coyote spying us. I was struck by how healthy it appeared. The large number of coyotes who visited our backyard in the desert of Southern California always looked scraggly and painfully thin. This coyote was gorgeous.

I acknowledged him, pried Sancho off of me and got back to business on the trail. Until, I thought about my stench. I was bacon scented. Probably not the wisest smell to carry with me into the woods. Oh, but all was good. I remembered that the stink of Lola, a stench that could squash the appetite of a dung beetle, was also with me.

In the end, we had a glorious morning and I was filled with the inspiration and energy required for a fully productive Pretend Day Off.

Just maybe after the next bacon burning, I’ll hose off before heading out into the wilderness.