Moving on to new goals

Well, this about winds up another semester here with a personal trainer, and summer is just around the corner. This is the time of year that it's easiest for me to plan what's coming as we move into the active summer season. My wife just finished a fitness competition program at the YMCA, and she continues to see improvements in her fitness. I think she's finally at the point where she wants to try some running, so we'll train together to get her ready for her first 5K. She's sure she can't do it- and I would bet money she could do it right now if she could believe that she could. I've done so many things that were only about half about the physical conditioning. I'm excited to keep moving forward with her, and I think we'll have a great time in our active life this summer.

   This past week, I had a sad time in my life. My dog, Shadow, had been getting old and struggling with getting around a bit for a while now- but she still had energy and was ready to go. Just a bit slower. A few weeks ago, she went downhill and started having seizures. These became more often, and we had to say goodbye to her this past week. I knew it would be hard, but I still said to myself, "She's just a dog, and it's time for her to go". I was surprised at how difficult it was for me. That morning, after she was gone, I wasn't sure what to do with myself the rest of the day. I planned to go ahead and go to my scheduled training session, thinking it would do me some good. I felt I needed to go into work for at least a short while to deal with some needs there. Next thing I knew, I found myself thinking about the movie Forrest Gump. Forrest takes off running across America on a whim- trying to make sense of his feelings. I found myself with the urge to have a nice long run alone. I cancelled my trainer at the last minute (sorry), and headed home to do a run. I decided that I wouldn't have a goal for time or distance and would just run as far as felt right. Having occasionally hurt myself a bit by overdoing runs, I decided that I would make a rule to run as easy as I could stand to. That would still let me get into the run, but would be less wear and tear on my body. I chose a route that would give me repeated options to lengthen or shorten the run- lots of places to "turn back" or go on. And off I went.
It was a somewhat cloudy day, as all of them have been lately, but not too cool at the start. I ran. I thought about Shadow. I ran. I remembered what it was like having her around. I ran. I thought about all the changes in my life- and how she was there through them. It started to cool off and the wind started to blow as it got ready to blow in a storm. I ran. Mostly, I managed to go at an easy pace, which is currently hovering around above 10-minute miles.
As I finally decided it was time to close the loop and turn back home, I realized that she wouldn't be waiting there to greet me. Of course, I knew that, but it seemed to make it all real again. After a moment of sadness, I had a picture in my mind of this enthusiastic puppy. Though she had less energy and less ability to jump around like that, she seemed to still be that way. A few days before she died, she was laying on the floor and seemed unable to get the energy to get up. I was trying to move some things around and grabbed her leash as a part of that process. She was still slow, but she dragged herself to her feet, enthusiastic to have the chance to go somewhere with me. The puppy was still there, even if the body wasn't quite willing. That was still her until the end. My mind went on to imagining here now- back to being the puppy she always was, without the limitations that her body had given her for the last few years. I felt joy in that image- and realized I was doing 6-minute miles. I eased up, satisfied that this was going to be OK. In the end, one of the longest runs I've done in about a year- a little over 8 miles. Somehow, the run worked. I'll still feel sad, but I also know it was time and she's free now.

It's interesting that a run seemed like the thing to do, and that it worked. Guess this stuff really is a part of my life now. Shadow was one of many things that brought me here, with her unconditional love and her enthusiasm. I owe her thanks, and I owe her a life well lived. Guess I better get started...