When Sean and I first got our rescued 65 pound pit bull, he had a TON of energy. When we adopted him, we knew how energetic this breed was. We knew we'd have a lot of work ahead of us, and I planned on taking him on most of my outdoor runs. It seemed like a great way to kill two birds with one stone. Instead of taking a morning run and walking the dog, I'd just take my dog on my run.

Plus, I had heard such wonderful stories about people who loved running with their dog. Dogs they could take on trail runs, or just have them run alongside them without a leash. Runner's World magazine published story after story of people who could run with their dogs and how much it enhanced their running and brought the dog and master closer together. I blame Runner's World for giving me such high hopes.

I took him out on the first run, and he was a pain in the ass. He didn't seem to get the concept of running. He seemed to think that outdoor time was his time to stop and smell everything. Running times be damned! And then he'd catch up and pull on his leash, as if saying 'go faster damn it! Why must you run so slow?' I laughed at it, because he was forcing me to go faster. Finally! I had a coach!

When summer rolled around and the snow let up, I quickly realized that if I cared anything about my pace, I couldn't bring my dog on a run. He overheated quickly and couldn't pace himself. He'd start off running like a bullet and I'd have to pull him back for a mile(both to save his energy and mine). Another mile would go by and we'd run just fine together, then on the third mile he'd start hanging back.
"Told you." I'd joke. Try pacing yourself next time you stupid dog.

Hanging back turned into lagging, especially in the hot summer days. I brought along a whole water bottle and a portable bowl for something as short as a 3 mile run. One day I was running and he collapsed into the shade, bringing me to an abrupt stop. He looked back at me as if to say, 'We will not run another step until I'm ready.'

Today I tried to take him on an easy, 4 mile run. There's a ton of snow around, and sidewalks suck right now. Snow(my dog) was constantly darting in front of me, and I was already dodging snow chunks and ice patches. My dog has gotten used to me kicking him in the hind legs if he can't stay on on side of me.

But this week, especially yesterday, sucked on just about every single level, and all I wanted to do was have a great run to blow off stress and have some time for myself. So the things that Snow normally does on my runs really, really bothered me today. He would hang back to smell something, I'd keep running and pull him along, then he'd surge ahead at just the wrong moment, when there'd be about 3 inches of space, forcing me to kick myself in the ankles or in worse circumstances, wrapping my feet around each other and pulling me down on the ice.

It was supposed to be a 4 mile run. I turned around after 1.2 miles taking me 13 minutes. Suddenly I realized that this run wasn't fun anymore. I wasn't enjoying it, and it was making me miserable. And I wanted to kick my dog. Repeatedly. Running was supposed to make me happy, let me relax, zone out, find my stride. Or, it should make me push myself, be competitive and have a long, hard workout that I feel completely dead after. Whatever I wanted. I couldn't do that with my dog. He was a distraction and an annoyance. And most of all, I shouldn't ever want to kick my dog. So I decided that my dog will no longer be sharing any runs with me.

Yeah, it might mean I have to wake up 20 minutes earlier in the mornings, but at least I'll have my runs back.