There was a huge going on in my head as I approached the freeway off-ramp. Would I turn left towards the gym, or would I turn in the opposite direction and go home?
Among the factors to weight in on my decision were two dogs who were locked inside the house. Ronin couldn’t do much damage from inside his crate, but Lucky has aged and so have his intestines. I know that if I were to go home first, I’d wouldn’t make it to the gym and back on time to get YaYa from soccer to guitar on time. It was the hardest decision of my day.
Left or right?
It arrived at the treadmills on time to nab the last treadmill. Without much time, I planned to keep my run short. I wasted no time and quickly started belt the moving at 6.8 MPH with an incline of 1.5%. I wasn’t surprised to find the run difficult; it’s not like I have been a pillar of fitness and strength lately. I was hot, and my mind fought with the urge to quit. But I held back the urge and pulled out 3.5 miles of determination in 31 minutes’ time.
I returned home to discover two cold and offensive-smelling piles of an aging dog’s intestinal discontent. Those extra 31 minutes would not have made any difference. I let the dogs outside, cleaned up the mess, and then took them each for a short run around the block. Well, Ronin ran around the block. Lucky made it to the corner and then we walked the remainder of the trip.
When Lucky and I returned to the house, he gulped down some water and then threw it up on the rug a few minutes later. I fumbled to unlock the door and get him out to the back yard, but it was too late.
Maybe my run functioned more than a test of will. Perhaps it was helping me to not get defeated by this nasty situation. I didn’t curse, or kick, or scream; I just cleaned it up and then locked the dogs outside until I returned.
I drove away hoping that my yard would remain intact until I returned. It’s now morning, and I still haven’t looked. I need to get that dog-run fixed up soon!