Poetic Return

The last post I wrote was January 3, 2015.  A few hours after that post went up my heart shattered with a force I could have never imagined.  How ironic is it that I wrote about the struggle to find myself in the "Two Years Together" post that day and then I immediately was faced with the most devastating experience of my life, my Mom's unexpected death.  In these months following there has been so much on this roller coaster that my life has felt like a combination of a bad amusement park and the movie "Ground Hog Day" where everything plays back, time after time after time.  I've had moments that lifted me in spirit and faith that I haven't felt in years, and conversely, times I was stricken to the depth of bitter doubt and distrust of everything I thought I knew to be true in my life.  My answer is to fight!.  That's what I have done in these months, I've become a warrior of being who I am now and who I've always been.  Finding peace with my new reality.  Here I am nine months later and I have begun to find my poetry again, my zeal, my rhythm.  Naturally, at the base of that yearning for life and adventure to go places I've never thought of, is a dog, this dog Stetson.

It has taken me nine months to find the pieces of my heart that soar when I run.  The first run I took a couple of weeks ago provided a deep soul cleansing and brought me a sense of peace I haven't known since returning from Hilton Head in January.  It was like a crescendo in a symphonic piece playing my heart underneath the striking of my feet.  The slow and methodical increase in intensity of my feet pounding with the weight of all these months below.  I had to reach this moment, I just didn't know how I was going to get there, or where I'd go once I arrived.  I know this peace is fragile, I will honor it and give space as needed in order to continue to move forward.  There's poetry every where in life, but you must keep your heart open, even in the darkest of hours, to find it.

There he is.  Stetson.  That smile, the whine and shrill cry when the sneakers go onto my feet followed by the madness wiggling from his tail stub when the collar slips onto his neck.  Nine months later, he hasn't forgotten a moment of what this time between us is.  My poetry is here again, thanks for pulling me up buddy.  You are my rock and my balance.

Two Years Together

Here we are.  From the bottom of an emotional explosion of the heart to the most amazing and interesting two years of my life with dogs.

He rescued me.  I wanted to run away and hide. I wanted to leave dogs, again.  Mira left so suddenly and under such extremely unbelievable circumstances that I truly wished I'd never given my heart to a dog, somehow the excruciating pain in the moment of our final goodbye didn't seem worth it  And then in my most unexpected moment of angst, Dave asked me "what are you going to do, you have to have a running partner.  I'm not comfortable with you running by yourself, especially at night..." and he began looking at "husky" rescue sites and local shelter websites for an immediate companion.  I slammed the brakes on a rescue "husky".  There was no way my heart was willing to open up to a rescue that I would forever hold up to the expectation of fitting into our life as if we never missed a beat.  It wasn't fair to either of our hearts, or to the dog.

Shortly before Mira died, we had decided it was time to bring a third dog into our fold.  We had researched breeds, thinking maybe we were ready for something different when we finally decided that Siberian was the dog we wanted to stay with and a puppy would fit our needs best.  We purchased a third crate for the truck and began making plans for a puppy that would be whelped sometime the following spring/summer.

And there I stood, not knowing where to turn.  But there was a dog that had captured my imagination.  He was a beautiful Australian Shepherd that had been shown to his ASCA and AKC championship titles and was ready to find his new career.  My heart was shredded, but open so we arranged a meeting and before we had even made eye contact, I knew he was going to come home with us in the immediate future.

Fast forward to today.  Two years we have shared and grown together.  We have tried many new things and pushed each other to levels of training, learning and accomplishment that neither of us imagined before.

We played agility, herding, obedience, running and so much more in these past twenty-four months.  I will always owe him my best and he will forever own the piece of my soul that says, "yes you can" because he always proves that we can do anything we put our hearts to.

One of the Neighbors

We have had a blast with the dogs on the beach this week.  Ours are not trained to be reliable off lead, but this time of year the beaches of Hilton Head Island allow off lead, under voice control 24/7.  It is fun to see people and their dogs playing and walking and socializing.

Our timing has been consistent and there are lots of people and dogs who share our schedule.  We will remember the lady who stands in the surf with a bag to collect shells, the gentleman with the running baby stroller and his two Westies.  A couple who was out there almost every day had another pair of Westies.  The Burmese Mountain Dog puppies who love Edge, and their friends the Standard Poodles.  The two men who walk in the opposite way you would expect; one dog on lead and one off - one is  a Lab and the other a Malamute, yes the Mal is off lead and very reliable while the Lab is restricted to leash because socializing is far more important to her than minding her owner.  A very submissive gal, Edge was kind of creeped out by her licks and lowered head.  The woman on a cane who has a Wheaten that is very, very well trained and reliable off lead.  The same Wheaton however is pretty dominant in stature and the only dog that Edge growled at when he offered a play bow and the Wheatie stood tall in response.  Apparently you only get once chance with Edge, he growled but ignored her as soon as her owner called her back.  Lots of dogs love her, oh well there's always the Burmer puppy girl for Edge. It has been fun to stop and chat, acknowledge each other's lovely canine companions and generally enjoy the company of a select few on a daily basis.

This morning as we were walking a woman on a bicycle came up and began to chat.  She said her sister had Australian Shepherds and wanted to know our guys names.  She was heading home today and wanted to be able to tell her sister about Stetson and Edge and how lovely she thought they were.

The beach has previously been a place of solitude for me.  Another spot where I just draw up into my world with my dog.  I suppose this year was different since there wasn't much "running".  I also was lucky to have Dave with me all but one outing.

I am filled with peace and gratitude for all we have been able to do this week.  Glad to be just one of the neighbors down here and not a stranger.

Turning a Puppy into a Dog

He's delightful.  Full of energy, spunk, curiosity and a true zest for life.  He is life.  There is nothing mundane about him and running with him began in just that fashion; spunky, excited, jerky, lunging, loping, crossing behind, crossing in front, tripping Stetson...you name any act of excitement and he exhibited it.

Since we began running on the road again recently, Edge has picked up the qualities of a running partner that I desire.  He's not pulling, much, hmmm less than he did, oh heck let's just say it's "better".  He has begun to understand that "left" or "right" means he needs to turn; he doesn't yet understand which way, but at least he knows it means turn.  He doesn't try to pick up odd stuff in the road, rarely attempts to pull off to pee on something and generally has an attitude of let's do this!

Fast forward - I wrote the first two paragraphs of this post a couple of weeks ago.  Not really caring if Edge ever became a really good partner for me outside of dog sports or not.  I have perfection already, I have Stetson.  His stride, mild manner, slightly aloof character and willingness to work with me on the run as well if not better than he does in Obedience was more than I could have dreamed of.  He has taken me to levels of confidence and performance that I didn't know I had fuel for.  Sigh.  He has again come up sore and painful.  I am careful, I am always thinking about performance and conditioning and long term impact/goals.  In spite of my methods, he has been taken out of the run until after stem cell (previously decided upon for February) and then likely on a limited basis as compared to our "norm".

 
Here we are on Hilton Head Island for vacation and I find myself intentionally turning a puppy into a dog.  I have this extra time to work with Edge to meld our two very different styles into a working team.  Dave and I are walking the boys every morning on the beach and they are getting additional potty walks during the day and evening as needed/desired so training opportunities are plenty.  He is so sweet and so willing to please.  I know we aren't going to be great partners yet, but I can see the potential.  I see us coming together every time we are out with Stetson for walks on the beach.

Edge and I will be off to the beach in the morning and headed into a three miler, just the two of us.  Puppy and I.

Happily looking forward, and hoping that what is in my rear view mirror will always be a pleasant reflection of what I intended to create.

Age, Running and Accepting Change

Control FREAK, that's me.  I like to know what I'm doing and get to the doing of it as quickly and efficiently as possible in regard to most things.  I micro manage my time most days.  I'm the one who sets goals each week for each dog and myself in three categories: endurance, strength and skill training.  The journal on my side of the lamp table is where I log training for them and myself.  I have copies of parts of all the journals I've kept over the years with the dogs from Nakeeta, Madison, Magic, Mira (practically zero entries), Stetson and recently, Edge who just joined the club.

Thin enough to see cheek bones, but heavy smoking kept me from true health

Almost every day from the time we began Obedience training there is an entry for Stetson.  Since Edge came along, I've hardly missed any days because we have so much to catch up on before his puppy sponge brain is turned into an adolescent prankster.  Maybe it's just strength and games, but there's something.  I took up this practice since my first seminar with Dr. Christine Zink D.V.M., PH.D. in Topeka Kansas when I first learned of the concept of training for all three aspects of performance, not just skills.  I was training and competing with three dogs at the time, so the journal/log seemed like a good idea. It stuck.  The habit carried over to triathlon training, race training and lastly into Obedience training.  It works, unless you ignore the numbers or quit clocking the time.  About three years ago I added tracking my nutrition and exercise in a great app, My Fitness Pal.  It helped me realize where my nutrition was falling short and rolling into some unwanted extra pounds...  The app became an extension of my logging data for evaluation and training purposes.

October, 2013 - AthHalf starting chute

I should be an lean, mean Elite or Olympic athlete based on all this, don't you think?  Oh yeah, that's right I forgot to mention I turned 51 in May of this year.  Hormones are dragging to a stop and in the process they are taking away my former ability to "sugar" up and then be able to double up on heavy training and cut back on fatty foods for a couple of days and not notice much issue.  NOOOO, not anymore.  I am packing more body fat that I've had in my life right now.  My legs look okay, but my mid section and arms have a layer of fat that I have never seen before.  I have tissue meeting tissue that isn't supposed to be friendly and folding over places it should be kept behind.  If I were a roast, we'd slice that off and toss it away during meal prep, but I'm a peri-menopausal woman and I'm going to have to force it off with grit and determination.

A few months ago I quit using My Fitness Pal and apparently not paying attention to my intake created an enormous opportunity for my body to produce the aforementioned "fat" gain.  It's in all the right areas for cardiovascular disease and obesity related illnesses too (there's a family history, on both sides, with some pretty nasty lifestyle related diseases and problems) which I am in no way intending to invite into my world.  After discovering a few weeks ago that much of my warmer weather work attire AND running clothes (the true pisser here, bless my heart) no longer fit I began plugging my daily food intake back into the app on my phone.  Sadly, I discovered in a matter of a couple of brutally honest food logging days that even though I was putting healthier versions of tasty comfort food together, I still logged excess fat/cholesterol and sugar intake.  Maybe it's the extra glass of wine at night, or the peppermints, or some beautiful and tasty Ribeye...whatever the choice, I wasn't making very good ones.  Not only do I log the food, but I also log exercise - well those entries were more often blank than filled.  On one Sunday some weeks ago, my endurance and strength goals were literally written as follows:  "something, just do something this week..."

I started trying to get things going the right direction again.  I began working out more, harder and recording it to evaluate the value of the time spent and making some choices to cut back on fatty and/or sugary foods.  It's working, I am beginning to notice that clothes aren't as uncomfortable as they have been.  I even wore an evening gown to a Christmas party last week that I'd not been in for quite a while and didn't really think it would fit when I "tried it on" the night of the party.

Surprise!

Happy to fit

I linked my TomTom HRM to MapMy Fitness so that the latter is automatically updated when I log something on the HRM.  I also linked My Fitness Pal to MapMy Fitness so they also sync.   It's only been a few days since I've had this much connection, but I have logged my day today and am for the first time in over a week under goal for cholesterol and sugar intake.  It used to be so much easier.  Those days are gone.  No longer can I ignore a week of food or exercise in order to maintain goals and feel good.  I love to run.  I'll log, and I'll go and run and I'll deal with the body that put the brakes on some habits I rather enjoyed but proved unproductive at this point in my life.

Tomorrow is Sunday.  We will run at the river in the morning.  Dave, Stetson and Edge will take my mind from what I need to accomplish to that happy place where I lose all my inhibitions and let go into the moment.  I won't argue with Mother Nature, she's a beast that needs not be riled.  I will take this moment and rise in the morning to another day, another log and another week ahead to set fresh goals to.

A Whole Lot of Dammit

I know the title of this post seems crass.  It is, I was, and I probably should apologize publicly in some fashion to the other people on trails at Kennesaw Mountain  this morning who likely heard the irritated, breathy muttering (or louder) of the word frequently during the run.

Dog training normally begins with baby steps, toddler steps, pre-teen...  You get the picture, you don't just pick up a dog one day and put them in some performance situation and expect them to know what they are doing.  That's the point of training, using building blocks to create bridges between the necessary skills, one at a time until you chain enough together to perform.I don't do slow well.  I always push the envelope, always have and I should probably quit trying to be surprised when that habit smacks me upside the head on occasion as if I should know better.

Training Edge to run with Stetson and I seems like a good idea. I have laid out the steps I think are necessary to build him to the point of being able to go a reasonable duration on trail.  We began on the road, ventured to the trails at the river which are wide, flat and have very few foot obstacles that require my attention, thus I can focus on the puppy.  Do you see where I was going with this action plan?  Taking the process one step at a time...he has been doing really well and I have begun to not dread taking him with us as he's learning enough that I can actually use a normal stride and be reasonably comfortable with him in hand.

All week I've been planning on a run today, the day after Thanksgiving.  Dave had to work, so I was up and ready early to head to the mountain with JUST Stetson.  It would be so nice to have some time with just my boy and I.  The temperature was 27 degrees and I was really excited as I pulled the truck out of the garage to load.  Coming back into the house, I see Edge in the entry.  Such an eager and happy boy!  I walked into the kitchen and prepared our water bottles and post run goodies, (recovery I swear).  I headed back out to the truck to put things in and when I returned into the house I had two leashes and two collars in my hand.  Oops.  Oh well, I thought. He's been so good and tries so hard, it could be fun, so I loaded both dogs into the truck.  The moment your decision is no longer based on the big picture is the moment you open yourself up to a whole lot of dammit. And so it began shortly thereafter.

It started immediately, just barely onto the trail and out of the parking lot.  I fumbled to find my "hidden" pocket for my keys and both leashes fell out of my hands and to the ground.  Stetson stood by me, but Edge had his nose in the wet leaves and was off like a flash.  Zoomies around the parking lot as I muttered the first dammit and called his name sweetly, another round of zoomies and I began walking the other way hoping he'd at least do a fly by and I could grab or stomp on the lead.  Well he didn't, something moved or fell or whatever in the woods and he stopped dead and put all his energy forward looking intently into the woods.  Okay, now I think I'm completely in more trouble that I can imagine when he glances over to me as I called his name.  At the moment he looked our way, Stetson, my hero, flopped into a play bow and woofed at him.  Edge came flying over and pounced on Stetson and I took the leash in my then frozen hand as if he'd been by my side all along.

I probably achieved the cardio workout intended without having moved ten yards yet, but it didn't end there.  We cross below the Illinois Monument and begin a downhill stretch of path when I realize that this was the first time I'd been out on a trail with my new contact lens, with improved reading capability, but slightly reduced distance ability.  Looking down at the leaves quickly passing beneath my feet, I realize that the path is a bit blurred.  Another curse as I slip on the heavily covered wet leaves.  Okay, let's walk a bit.  Blink, walk, blink, blink and my eyes seem to adjust quickly to the new prescription and we're off again.

It didn't take long to realize that Edge had too much lead to keep him from lunging and pulling in his excitement.  By coiling his leash a couple of times I could keep him close enough to me that a leash correction caught his attention and he quickly remembered to not pull.  At this point, I'm feeling okay.  We've been up a few inclines and walked a few descents when we came to a nice area of flat trail.  I decided to keep Edge in and let Stetson have his full six feet of leash.  Yes, this seems to be working well and I allow myself my full stride for the first time.  Taking a short choppy stride is a defense mechanism I developed when running with Maddie and Nakeeta because it gave me better control to keep myself upright in the event they decided to try to chase a squirrel or pull hard on the lead for whatever reason.  It works to stay upright, but it actually kills my lower back and causes extra strain on my knees.  So letting go felt really good.  Until we approach a horse pile that apparently was beyond temptation for Edge.  Here's the lineup; Edge on my left and barely a shoulder in front of me, Me at full stride, horse poop pile on my right.  One stride into it and he cuts in front of me with his head bending down.  I'll let your imagination take you wherever you wish to go regarding my verbal reaction to this one.  Thankfully I didn't fall, except in good nature.

The rest of the run was pretty smooth.  By the time we hit three miles he was relaxed and into the groove of things.  I don't much like the first three miles anyway.  And then here's this face coming out of the crate at me later.  He isn't trying to get out of the crate to run off, he's trying to get to me with big happy kisses.  Yes little man, it was still much better than "Black Friday" shopping or a day at the office.

Deer Proof and Squirrel Proof

He is smart.  You can see it in the way he watches you, he considers your every request and does his best to comply.  If you put him up, or finish training obedience or agility exercises for the day and the next day you ask him the for the same new behavior he was introduced to the day before, he simply begins to do it as though he had done it many times before.  I will be challenged to not increase my criteria often enough with him.

Run training is not an exception to the way he learns.  The stimulus of nature was pretty intense for him the first time we ran at the river.  He wanted to pee on everything and tried to dart in front of Dave's path on more than one occasion after a squirrel the first day out.  A firm "leave it" and "on by" weren't seeming to get me far, but I was intent on getting my message across.  Then my one of my worst fears on a trail (based on previous experience with Nakeeta and/or Madison), deer.  Two of them.  They weren't peeking at us from behind cover, of course not, they were grazing alongside the trail.  Dave and I estimated the two doe were within ten feet of us as we passed.  Thankfully they didn't start and run, but the excitement was high for Edge.  He stopped and looked, checked in with me and then looked back at them a few times after we passed.  What a good boy!  I was thrilled.

The second time out the squirrels were everywhere.  Darting across the path ahead of us, scrambling up trees trail side and noisily scurrying under leaves on either side of the trail.  A couple of good firm "leave it" or "on by" demands from me and he was done.  Early in the run he began to show attention to them and slow and then move forward and continue on.  Occasionally he would check in with Dave or I, but for the most part he was making decisions on his own.  It is huge that he has this much control.  Our safety depends on good decisions by all of us.

In time, he is going to be a great running partner.