Walking My Inner Dog
Almost like a beach vacation, except running instead.
Some folks have an inner child whose needs they attend to. I think I might have an inner dog.
I’ve often jokingly compared certain exercise habits of mine to those of a dog. For example, I prefer runs that are loops rather than out-and-backs. Dogs also prefer loops, because there is more stuff to sniff. Also, I will ski laps on the same run more than most would have the attention span for, akin to a dog playing fetch.
Dogs feel a certain joy from just moving and being out on a trail, giving it their all, and I can relate to that.
Last week I had planned a day hike/jog with a friend to a lake, and wanted to see if we could do it in the time from school bus drop-off to pickup—7 hours. This included drive time and 13-14 miles of trail with 3000 feet of elevation gain and lots of downed logs. Ultimately, my friend couldn’t make it last minute as she wasn’t feeling well, but my inner dog was excited for the challenge, and so I went anyways.
Right before I got lost. Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped to take this picture and should have focused on looking for the trail instead.
I don’t know how else to describe that feeling of wanting to attempt something just to see if I can do it. I have friends who are artists who have completed 100 day art challenges where they create 100 days in a row; I skied 100 days in a row. I don’t think it matters what the activity is; I do think that humans have something in us that compels us to want to attempt feats sometimes just because we can, for the simple process of it and for the journey, much like a dog. I think it might just be baked into our DNA. Perhaps its biological—we have an ego that helps motivate us try to accomplish things as a means to keep pushing—for food, for shelter, for advancement of the species.
I set out on my run feeling pretty good, excited but a bit nervous, not knowing what was ahead. My ego had also prevented me from doing some basic due diligence like bringing some sort of GPS app or downloading a map for the route—I was like, I’m in a hurry, I’m sure I’ll be able to find the route, how hard can it be? Ha. Ha.
5 miles in, I got completely and utterly lost. I found myself partially up a steep hill, a burn zone from a fire in 2017. The hill was completely covered in downed trees and sharp sticks—many of them black with charcoal, thick underbrush, and fireweed that was shedding its cottony seeds. The cotton puffs covered my sweaty face and got into my nose and mouth as I pulled myself up the slope using bushes, rocks, and trees for hand and footholds. At this point, I realized I could not turn around and descend what I had came up in a safe manner—there were too many obstacles.
Lost, dirty, covered in fireweed cotton—right in my element.
So, I needed to keep going up. I thought I had an idea of where the lake might be, so I angled in that direction, sweaty and out of breath, my face covered with charcoal streaks where I had used my charcoal-coated fingers to try to swipe away the cotton puffs. Eventually I left the burn zone and heard voices which led me to the trail and two guys who were quite surprised to see me exit the woods ahead of them. Apparently they had attempted the same hike the day before and had also gotten lost, which made me feel better. I reached the lake, had a quick bite and a quick swim, and then hightailed it home, pushing myself to jog whenever I could, trying to makeup time for getting lost and also because I could. It felt good to try hard at something, and to have a goal in mind of beating the school bus.
In the end, I did make it to the school bus on time, and even had time to stop home for a shower beforehand. I hadn’t set any speed records or done anything extraordinary, but to me, taking a weekday to go for an adventure and let my inner dog off leash for the day felt like a little vacation. It was hard; it wasn’t a beach vacation. But letting my inner dogs out for a run sometimes just for the heck of it is a great way to keep the flame going, of stoking wonder and joy and challenge and connection to something deeper, even if that’s just moving through nature with my own thoughts for a day. My tail is still wagging just thinking about it.
Made it!
