Charlie and I both love to run; unfortunately neither of us gets to go off-leash very often.
Life’s circumstances have eaten up life’s little freedoms, both for him and for me. For him, being a rescue dog from an urban environment means that he can be unpredictable with other dogs and therefore has to be held close at all times.
For me, it’s the crazies out there that have put me on my leash, taking away the freedom to run wherever I feel like, whenever I feel like it. (I never run alone on trails without MFP or Charlie and I always run in a public place where there are lots of people around at all times.)
By now I am sure you have read the latest running tragedy, that of Sherry Arnold from Montana.
This morning as we were playing with Charlie in the backyard (he had yard repeats on his training schedule), I caught a glimpse of what it would be like to have complete running freedom.
Before his demanding workout, we gave him a piece of cheese. (He doesn’t like GUs and such. He says they are for wimps.)
Ready?
Set. Go!
Off he went on his second repeat, without taking a single second for recovery.
When he starts to run with his eyes closed that it’s about time to wrap up the workout and call it a day.
I hope that some day I can feel the wind in my face and the excitement in my legs as I embark on an off-road run without my leash. Just to run without looking over my shoulder, or run without my phone. To run down a trail for hours and not worry about someone popping out of a bush or from behind a tree and taking everything away from me in an instant.
That would be what running off-leash would feel like.
The tragedy, of course, is that even when you have your leash on, when you’ve done all the right things, things can still go terribly wrong.
But that fear is not going to keep me inside the four walls of the gym or at home sitting on my sofa.
Running is my freedom. Even if I have to wear a leash.
