Halfway though my 40th year, my mid-life crisis manifested itself in the desire to run a half marathon. I signed up for a training program, pounded my way through months of sweaty summer long runs, burned through shoes at a frightening clip and, at the end, emerged victorious with a 2:30:00-ish finish. I felt pretty darn proud of myself.
This past weekend, a dog wandering the streets of Elkmont, AL came across a half marathon and started trotting along with the runners. The dog finished at 1:32:00 and in 7th place overall, despite taking time out to frolic with mules, cows, other dogs, and sniff a dead rabbit.
Son of a bitch.
The dog's owner was surprised to hear that her dog had run 13.1 miles of her own accord, because “she's actually really lazy.”
Most runners will tell you that running a 7-minute mile for 13.1 miles takes a lot of training, good equipment, water, sports drinks, and Gu –– or other weird energy gels (I like the salted caramel flavor, myself). This dog? Probably didn’t even carbo-load the night before the race.
I wish I thought the moral of this story were to run more like a dog and just jog along the course sniffing bunnies and barking at mules. But it’ll take more than that to get my bipedal-self running at a four-footer’s pace. It will, however, remind me to have some fun with running instead of treating it like battle to be won.
Now, if you need me, I’ll be on the treadmill pretending to be a dog.
Image source: NBC News