I’m not sure which is worse when running: pushing a stroller or pulling a dog.
I wasn’t feeling great last night, thanks to mother nature, and knew that wouldn’t change by morning. But I had a 1.5-mile run scheduled for today. So, last night, trying to get myself pumped for an early workout, I told our oldest boxer she could go with me on the trail in the morning. Unortunately, Annie thought I meant right then, and she got all excited and had to be calmed down.
This morning I woke up 15 minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I hate that. Since I didn’t feel well, I just got up and put on my running clothes that I set out for myself. I was ready to go and it was only 6:05.
I tiptoed through the dim master bedroom over to where Annie was curled up.
“Let’s go,” I whispered.
She didn’t budge, just moved her eyeballs so she could look at me. I guess she forgot about our conversation last night.
I leaned down so my mouth would be next to her ear. “Wanna go for a joggies?”
She jumped up, shook off sleep, stretched and trotted to the door. Oh, she was so excited. And, I had second thoughts about this idea. From the moment we left the house, Annie was pulling, pulling, pulling on the the leash and my arm, which meant I was pulling, pulling, pulling back.
During our pre-run walk, I gave a sharp yank to let her know I meant business. “Annie, heal.”
Yeah, that lasted two seconds.
I thought maybe once we started running, she’d slow down and get into a rhythm with me, but her slowest trot was faster than my normal jog. She ran out in front of me on the trail for, oh, about 1.4 miles. (She slowed down for the last .1, but I think that was only because she knew we were almost home.)
And, she kept stopping to squat. That was annoying as I made her go potty before we left. “You don’t have to go!” Argh.
I gave a little tug. “Let’s go!”
Or, she stopped to smell where another dog had squatted. Ugh.
“Annie. Let’s. Go.” I gave another quick tug.
And, then she ran ahead of me and I had to keep reeling her in. Boxer fishing.
At one point, she kept galloping, but she could only go a few feet before getting to the end of her leash. That’s when she’d gave me the look: C’mon, lady, let’s get going!
I know I ran faster than normal even though I don’t know what the official time was. I guess that means I should take her more often.