What I learned from my dog about running

Before chronic pain, running was my happy place. I didn't run for years. Getting back to it was frustrating and inconsistent. My dog Coco helped me get my running joy back.

This post is much delayed. I fully intended on not just one post for June, but two! And I got zero out in time! I was on fire early in the month, following Jamie Attenberg’s #1000 Words of Summer challenge. I completed drafts of four posts. FOUR! I was going to do some editing when I got back from the annual PAINSTORM meeting and get two of those puppies out into the world in June.

Then life happened. I got COVID. Thankfully not as bad as the first time I had it, but still sucky, with symptoms that linger. When I was finally ready to reenter the world, Coco wasn’t acting herself. She was in obvious pain. She wouldn’t eat or drink or go to the bathroom. She was hunched and trembling and scared. It was awful. Absolutely, gut-wrenchingly awful.

We got her in to our vet and learned that Coco had somehow injured her neck. We have no idea how. For those of you who have been following me for some time, this reminded us all too much of our beloved Buster.

Buster, the bestest boy there ever was

Coco got a mega-dose of steroids, which thankfully gave her some relief and stimulated her appetite. She was most comfortable sleeping behind the couch, so we slept there with her. There was a chance she had meningitis and that she’d decompensate quickly, which would mean an 1 1/2 hour drive to the front range to the emergency vet.

We made it through that night, and Coco has gradually improved each day. Now, nearly a week later, she is much more her goofy self, for which we are so grateful. We’re still taking it easy and have a ways to go, but at least we’re moving in the right direction.

The first post I was going to publish in June is on alienation and vigilance, but it’s pretty heavy and long, and I’m kinda needing lighter today. I wrote the post below after a run sometime in early June. It has a lot to do with Coco, so I thought it was perfect.

I went for a run

I went for a run today. It was glorious. Four miles of just absolute gloriousness.

This may need some context. I love running. Yet it was something I didn’t do for years because of pain. Before pain, though, boy did I love to run. It was my ‘me’ time. My free time. Free from work, from worries, from responsibilities, from anxiety, from to-do lists, from people, from thinking.

I just felt so damn free while I was running. Just me and the trail and the sky and the breeze and the trees and the power and the movement and the freedom of it all.

I used to be a decent runner, running 3-7 miles on an average day, 10-13 on a long run. No running super star, but no schlub either.

I always ran on trails, because I dig nature. If anyone was ahead of me, I had to pass them. If anyone was behind me, I could not let them pass me. These folks may never have known they were in a competition, but they were.

I am a competitive person. After my recent colonoscopy I told my husband how my report said my bowel prep was excellent. Excellent! I crushed that bowel prep! That kind of competitive. (I’m super fun to play games with 😉 Same husband will not play Boggle or Scrabble or any word games with me because I will DOMINATE).

Getting over myself

But now, I am a slow runner. A turtle to my former hare. It’s probably more apt to call me a jogger, but dammit, I’m a runner.

When I first got back to running, it was terrible. I couldn’t stop the competition mindset, even though my body was having none of competing. I’d get frustrated, comparing myself to other runners on the trail (who were now passing me with regularity, and none of whom I could catch), comparing my current self with my former self.

It was a good day if my half-mile times were what my mile times used to be back in the day.

I hated it. I said I didn’t, that I was just happy to be out there, but that I was a lie I was telling myself more than anybody else. I hated it.

Running was no longer fun. No longer something I loved. No longer enjoyable. No longer freeing. No longer something that made me feel like me. It made me feel like not me, and that made me sad and mad. Filled with ‘I used to be able to…’

Fast forward a few years

This year I’ve run more than in any previous year since my injury in 2010. And it’s only been a couple months since the trails here were clear of snow.

Now, I’m still not running a ton. Just two times a week, and that’s a huge win. An even huger win, I’m absolutely loving it again.

I credit Coco, the wonder mutt.

Coco Pants, sweetest girl in the whole wide world

We got Coco from Mountain Pet Rescue in 2020. Our girl has experienced some trauma and is a sensitive soul that comes across as aggressive when she’s scared or anxious. She’s down for adventures and also likes being a couch potato (we have a lot in common). She’s also the sweetest girl in the whole wide world (which we do not have in common - ha!). She’s goofy and silly and also very, very serious.

She’s the bestest girl.

I started running with her in 2022, a year after my hysterectomy for fibroids and adenomyosis, the symptoms of which had prevented me from running in the year prior to my surgery. I wasn’t running a whole before that, anyway, for all the reasons listed above, and because I’m an idiot. I couldn’t resist those competitive urges and would try to do too much, then flare up MASSIVELY, then not be able to run for weeks or months, and I’d do that on repeat.

Coco Runs

When I started running with Coco, I absolutely could not take running, or myself, seriously. She has to stop to sniff, pee, get in the river, eat some grass. We will also occasionally sprint all out after a squirrel or duck or chipmunk or jay. There’s no pace to maintain. No former self to compare to, because former self did not run with a goofy dog who does not care about how you would like to run, she just wants to have fun.

I’m sure I could have trained her to be a diligent running partner, she’s super smart and loves to learn new things, but I didn’t want to because it was SO MUCH FUN to run with her goofy ass. Coco brought the joy of running, the love of running, back to me.

Instead of thinking about how I used to run, or who on the trail was running faster, or what my pace was, or how far we’ve run, or how far we should run, I took in the scenery. I noticed the world going by. I felt the breeze on my face, smelled the duff baking in the sun, watched the clouds roll by. I looked for birds, moose, butterflies, wild flowers. I watched Coco, getting glimpses of her goofy, happy face, only needing to focus on not getting tangled up in her leash.

Our scenery whilst running, with Coco leading the way

Some days I’d let her lead, picking the route, the pace, the stops. Some days she’d let me lead, and she wouldn’t stop unless I gave her the nod.

When she’d stop to get in the river to cool her paws and belly, to get some sips, I’d relish the break, dipping my hands in the cold, snowmelt waters to splash my face, head, neck, listening to the water rush over the rocks, watching how the sun glinted off the surface and reached toward the depths.

Then we’d get back on the trail and start running again. My girl got me back running again. Not just running again, but feeling like a runner again.

I AM a runner

All of the runs we go on together now are Coco Runs. She picks the route, the pace, the stops, the distance. She’s getting older (we’re not sure how old she is, but we think around 10), with a powdered sugar muzzle, a slower gait, but the same goofy face and same joy.

I also run on my own, too. I’m still not fast, but I’m faster than I was when Coco and I first started two years ago (see how I can’t resist putting that in there?). It’s not easy, but it’s also not as hard as it used to be either. And it’s just friggin joyous, you know?

(For the record, running at 8600’ of elevation is not easy! All my pre-pain running years were in California and Michigan. I had some hills in Cali, but they were hills, not friggin mountains. When I run at sea level now I feel like Super Woman. There’s so much damn oxygen in the air! It’s everywhere! It just enters your lungs with every breath! It’s amazing!).

Because of Coco, I was able to run 4 miles today.

I’m not blazing any trails, it took me over 53 minutes. But it’s the furthest I’ve run continuously since 2020, before my pelvic pain and symptoms from the fibroids and adenomyosis made running (or much of anything) too uncomfortable. And it’s about the longest distance I reached in my previous years of trying to run again post-chronic pain.

(I wrote about my first times back to running - in 2015 - after my hip injury/pain here and here. I wrote about being an idiot while trying to get back to trail running - in 2016 - here. I wrote about finally figuring out running - or so I thought - in 2017 - here. This has been a long ass journey folks! With some lessons learned over and over again.)

I ran 4 miles today. And it. Was. Glorious.

Am I finally growing up (at 48)?

I also got passed today. By a former me. Lean, fast, young. I mean, she didn’t just pass me, she flew by me. Just torched me.

Good for her! I thought, and laughed a bit to myself, remembering how motivated I was by the people ahead of me. Even slow af runners like my current self.

I’d pick up my pace, passing them at my maximum speed, which I’d have to maintain, so they’d think I ran that fast all the time, until I was out of sight or far enough ahead that it didn’t matter if I slowed down a touch.

I didn’t mind getting passed, and I’m also still competitive. Ridiculously so. There was a guy walking on the trail with groceries (our river trail goes behind the grocery story) and you know I passed that fucker!

I also passed a couple older ladies walking the path with trekking poles. They moved to the side for me. One said she was impressed, and I thought HELL YEAH! and picked up my pace a bit to reward them for their encouragement.

So, yeah, I’m still an ass.

But I ran today. And it was pretty friggin’ glorious.

Grateful for the lessons learned from doggos

I can’t wait for me and my girl to get back out and do another Coco Run soon, when she’s ready and wants to. No matter how short or slow, no matter how may sniffs and river dips. When things like this happen it reminds you of what’s important. How fast or far or often I run is definitely not important.

I’m so grateful to my girl for getting me back to something I loved for so long, lost for so long, and love yet again.

Hope each of you gets to do something you love today, just for the joy of it.

Coco won’t pose for pictures like Buster used to, so I just have to capture her just enjoying herself!

Thank you all for being here. It’s been a heck of a couple weeks. (Hell, it’s been a heck of a year. Heck of a few years. Heck of a decade.)

I’m sorry for not getting any posts out in June, and promise there will be a couple this month to make up for it!