PART BEAR. PART MAN. ALL AMERICAN
Monday, September 15, 2008
At no point in this report will there be quite as many entertaining details, videos, photos or descriptions as are found in the version told by Amanda; however, it is my version, and it must be told.
After watching Amanda and Luna take off on their 5K run, Blue and I found ourselves in a strange environment. We found ourselves somewhere we had never been, and we found ourselves somewhere we feel we should not have to be for quite some time now.
We found ourselves amidst the non-athletes of Boulder… and amongst their dogs. Don’t get me wrong, I love that every single one of those participants was there to raise money for the same great cause (paws), and every single one of those dogs was there to shake out the legs, to lay a morning steamer, and to sniff other dogs bits and pieces. It was a lovely and inspiring event, to be sure.
However, the issue that Blue Dog and I had with the 3k Walk was that we felt so OLD and NON-ATHLETIC! How had it become that we were too tired/ old/ sore/ pathetic to even participate in the 5K race? We didn’t have to race it; we could have just been there jogging. Are we not capable of jogging for fun?!
I began pondering my reasons for signing up for the walk. I had specifically told Amanda that Blue Dog and I would love to join them for the Cause, but that we would not be able to run. And why not? Blue dog is built to run, and although I’m not built quite as impressively as Blue Dog, I consider myself to be a runner at heart. I love to run. Blue loves to run. Five kilometers only add up to 3.1 miles, so it’s well within our capabilities. What the heck was I thinking?!
Lamely, what I was thinking was that I was too tired/ sore/ angry to be running on Saturday. I had done a healthy bit of running on Friday, I noticed zero running on my schedule for Saturday, and I was pooped. I had chosen to be smart. To be smart was not fun.
I had also thought of Blue Dog. He is now a bit of a senior citizen (sort of), and I was worried that the scorching 65 degree heat was going to be too much for him to handle. Sure, there was water (lots of it) at every corner of the race, and there was that whole clause (not cause, not paws) that stated we could stop whenever we wanted to freshen up. But I was worried about my boy. I didn’t want that heat to get to him.
Consequently, we were walking with the overweight dogs (I have nothing against them, but I prefer dogs who possess an aesthetically pleasing form–full of muscles and the like); with the tiny dogs (with clothing); the huge dogs (with clothing); and their people (on phones, drinking coffee, chatting). It was beginning to make me and Blue a bit depressed. What had become of us? We were athletes, for crying out loud. We enjoy a sniff and a poop and a coffee and a phone call as much as the next guy, but give me a break… not during an event!