There I was running down a street in my neighborhood. Our first cold, hard winter in Michigan was behind us. I was happy to be outdoors again, putting one foot in front of the other, breathing in the fresh spring air. Toby and I were making our way down a side road that connected our street to the main one we needed to cross to get to the trail. We were just getting started when we came across a man not even halfway into our first mile.
“One day you’ll be pulling him,” he called out.
Toby and I were running on the blacktop as there was no sidewalk and Toby was in the lead. He was out front at the end of his regular blue leash. He was pulling, choking himself just a little. His energy was high and he was happy.
As we passed the man working on his lawn, I called out in response, “I can only hope.”
We continued on our run and I kept chuckling at this exchange. It made me giggle at the time because I just didn’t see it happening. I guess I was naive, but it humored me.
Back then Toby and I were still learning how to run together. Toby was still new to us and I was still fairly new to running. Toby would have been delighted to sprint; I was content to go slow. Toby could have run for miles and miles; I was pleased with just a few. It seemed our runs didn’t even tire him out a little, while they left me exhausted for a couple of days.
We ran several times around that neighborhood and we ran even more once we moved into town. The mileage increased as did my pace. We graduated to a hands free, orange running leash. We ran more often. We trained for me to run more races. We even did a couple two-a-days. And for a while, Toby was almost always in the lead. But somewhere along the way, a shift happened.
Toby and I went for a run again today. We took our normal morning route. 1.6 miles from the house, turn around at the park trashcan having deposited anything collected along the way, and then the 1.6 miles back. This is the shortest distance we go now, always being sure to hit the 5K distance on my running watch before arriving back home. After having an issue with him pulling a little too hard on our last run with the hands-free leash, I chose to use the familiar blue leash.
We set out and the first quarter of mile was met with Toby pulling hard, choking himself just a little. But then we had to stop for the bathroom. And we had to stop several times along the way. Our final mile was the fastest, but it wasn’t our quickest to date. As we took off again from the final intersection we had to stop for, Toby was at my side. We kept running and there came a time when he fell back and I took the lead. That’s how we stayed until the run ended.
As I turned off my watch and we walked to cool down, I smiled as I remembered.
One day you’ll be pulling him,” he called out.
Today was one of those days!
