Recently I started running again. It's much more fulfilling, enjoyable, and stress releasing this time around. I think I'm finally in a place that the whole process has become enjoyable and not some hideous chore that's miserable, stressful, demanding, and exhausting.
Much like trading a bad relationship for a good one.
After work these days the weather has been nice enough, read: over 40 degrees, to go for a run in the neighborhood. There's a two mile stretch, an out-and-back, that does my body, mind, and soul good. And it keeps me off the busy main street I live on. It takes me up a decent hill, through a neighborhood, and passed 3 churches of different denominations. Utah is quite the religious place.
So I was running this route, the sun was shining but there was a chill breeze that made my ears hurt. I was on the second stretch of the out-and-back, meaning the back part, coming up on the downhill stretch before I turn the corner and cook it back to the apartment complex. I had seen the couple walking their dogs on the other side of the street but didn't pay much attention to them except to notice that both dogs were boxers and they were leashed. No big.
As I near closer to them, the dogs notice me. I'm not super worried because, like I said, they are leashed. I keep going along on my side of the street, aware that they are there, but focused on my steps, breathing, and Kanye West singing angry words in my ears. As I come even with them, I see out of the corner of my eye the dog move suddenly. I focus my attention there, but don't break stride.
The owner of the dog didn't see me, or hear me apparently, because I see him let go of the leash. And that could be my overreaction, the dog certainly could have caught the owner off guard and got away. Either way, there is now a big boxer dog running at me. I'm freaking out. I remember dog training class and stop running to turn and face the dog. Now it's the dog's turn to not break stride and he leaped right on me. So the dog and I are on the ground, my elbows are skinned up, my head hurts, I'm trying to get this dog off of me, I'm yelling, my butt hurts from landing on it, the owner is yelling and running across the street I hope to rescue me before this dog eats me.
And I wake up. With the sweats, gasping for breath, with a sore throat.
Yep, dreaming.
And you wonder why I'm afraid of boxers.
Happy April 1st everyone.
M
Marjorie Clark 