Pain in the ass beetle

            This past weekend was Easter weekend and Josh and I went home to celebrate with our family. Easter, while not being one of my favorite holidays, excites me nonetheless. Even though it is supposed to be a holiday strictly for the Lord and his resurrection, it has been masked with superficial fixings. Being the selfish person I am, these are things that get me going. Since probably birth, I’ve always gotten a cute new dress on Easter. I’ve looked forward to it even though I know that dress at the last minute would have to be covered up with some sweater yanked out of my closet because Iowa’s sporadic spring weather never seems to provide for a warm Easter. It was always kind of bittersweet, that Easter dress, because the sweater would have to match “good enough” and never really looked quite right with the dress. To this day, I have a white cardigan in my closet I rarely wear, but it’s exactly the type of sweater that gets pulled out for Easter Sunday. You never know when you might need it, a sweater like that. So there it hangs.
            Other than the dresses, there’s an abundance of candy in egg or bunny form. There might be a gift or two. Or, in my mother-in-law’s case, cash stashed in hollow eggs, while my parents let us take some gas from the farm tank. Winning.
            For all these reasons, and the fact I hadn’t been come since Christmas, I was pretty pumped to go home and see my family. My excitement level rose when I remembered my mother-in-law invested in a new treadmill. No more sliding speed bar and treacherous slipping belt? Yes! I remember distinctly hearing about this treadmill, and I was not disappointed as I lugged our heavy suitcase down to the basement. The glow of the digital screen illuminated the dark basement. It boasted trails powered by Google Maps and all kinds of data about your run. It had a suspension system that would rival my truck.
            I couldn’t wait to get on it. I threw my suitcase on the futon next to me and hopped on, jeans and all.
            Even though running and I are not friends, I fell in love with this treadmill. Running felt smooth, cushioned, and absolutely great. I jogged for a very small time, but then jumped off, because I only brought one pair of jeans for the weekend (ok, and some capris) and I could not afford to get them sweaty. I pack heavy everywhere I go, and for once, I feel like those workout clothes taking up precious real estate in my suitcase might actually get used, unlike my trip to Puerto Rico.
            The next morning I wake up exhausted, but drag my butt out of bed because I have to take care of a lot of things. Off to the vet to get my dog his shots. Then I figure I’ll take advantage of some cheap hometown tanning. Might as well hit up the local Maurices while I’m at it. I get back to the farm and decide to buckle down in the basement for some homework. I’m working on my Masters and the homework is killing me, and this class already is starting to give me a mini-panic attack. I fend off both sides of the family for the afternoon, intending to lock myself in the basement with a case study. I start to read my book and my eyes fell heavy. Ok…just a little nap…
            I wake up two hours later. Damn you, cold dark basement and your ideal sleeping conditions. My husband’s childhood room is one of my favorite places to sleep except for one thing: Asian Lady Beetles, known to my family as "Asian Ass Beetles." They showed up years to feed on the aphids on our soybeans (I had to google “aphids,” because I don’t know what they are) and they never left. They have no predator other than a farm wife’s vacuum. They bite, smell like a burnt turd coated in peanut butter and they are fucking everywhere.

I wake up with bumps on my wrists and ankles, no doubt from the ass beetles. Even though my mother-in-law vacuumed for hours, you can never get them all. I rush back to start reading the case study, only to find my instructor has not posted it. Bastard. What I do find is frantic emails from other classmates asking if I can find the case study. Great, just when I decide to finally be a responsible student and get things done ahead of time, my plan is foiled.

            I sit in the quiet basement and contemplate what to do for the next few hours. Josh’s family is in town cleaning out his grandmother’s fridge so they can move a new one in for her 80^th birthday. I could go in there and help but….I turn my head toward the treadmill. The sight of the cushioned coils underneath the track look inviting and before I know it, I’m lacing up my shoes. I find dog shit on the bottom of one. Welcome back to the farm.
            This treadmill is everything a moderately motivated runner like myself would want. It is one-touch speed buttons, so I can jump from running at 5.5 to walking at 3.5 with one touch of a button. It is sad how much I have longed for this feature. There is a built-in fan system to cool me down, as I get hot quickly in the frigid basement.
            But the best thing, the absolute best thing, is the iPod plug in. Instead of dealing with headphones, I can plug in my iPod and have CCR’s “The Old Man Down the Road” blasting in my face along with that cool air.
            It has been forever since I have been running seriously, and it showed. I started with running a quarter mile, then reasoned myself down to two minute running intervals. I kept this up for a while, but it was a pathetic battle. Old habits die hard, and I felt the urge to pee again. I hardly noticed this, because I felt a nagging, sharp pain starting to nestle inbetween my ass cheeks.
            My sweat turned cold, because I know what it is. The term “ass beetle” is not taken lightly, because I’m pretty sure one is nesting in my backyard. It must have gotten in my pants while they were thrown on top of my suitcase. Goddamn, it hurts. No wonder my brother complained when he forgot to wear a belt in the combine last fall. (To all you non-farm people, my brother is not in the NFL. A combine is a piece of machinery used to take the crop out of the fields.) I thought he was exaggerating when he talked about them biting as they crawled pretty much everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I don't think I need to illustrate my fears any further here.
            I go to the bathroom and find nothing. I decide not to worry about it. If a bug wants to crawl around in my pants, he'll get his. I return to the treadmill as long as I can stand it and when I run out of steam I did some floor exercises. I felt great afterwards, even when I had to clean up shit and vomit from my dog when I went upstairs to get water. Anyone want a cairn terrier?
           Well, it all felt good. I am starting to remember why I do it at all.