I went on a run today. I try to go almost every day.

Sometimes I go by myself, but often I’m with my husband and our young daughter. Depending on the day these runs (or walks) had been ways to catch-up on our busy schedules, avoid feeling out of shape, see the outside world after long nights of work or parenthood, or any number of reasons for a brief escape.

We have been urban hiking, nature walking, taking a coffee break on foot, and getting some space as an important ritual for many years. Seeing the people, houses, trees, sky and happenings outside my front door has always been an important break for me.

Until recently, I thought I’d mastered all there was involved in such a simple activity. Step one foot in front of the other where walls do not restrict me.

But then I got a dog. And I realized I was doing it all wrong.

To say my wiggly puppy likes to go on runs is certainly an understatement. Like every pooch I’ve met, the opportunity to experience the world outside our yard is treated like the chance of a lifetime by my 7 month old black-and-tan wonder of a girl, Tina.

Just the other day, I was tugged down a narrow dirt trail that we often visit when I decided to see where Tina might take us if I resisted the urge to pull her along our common loop.

As I assumed second seat in our pack and minded the trail ahead through her tightly tucked ears, we sprinted full speed over roots and around turns. After clearing the trees, we visited a patch of crackers left over from a recent ball game and paused to sniff the dirt, the sidewalk and even a few cars.

We ran and ran in the sunshine until a single sign-post provide just enough shade for a short moment of solace on the ground.

Somewhere along our spontaneous adventure, I had a revelation.

This adorable, enthusiastic, heart on four legs is not in love with this run because she views this time as an escape from hours on a lazy couch. She doesn’t care much that we only have 15 minutes today and had 30 minutes yesterday. She isn’t counting down, or planning out the day, or thinking up more things to do when get home.
She isn’t escaping. She is enjoying.

She is exploring at full steam. She is creating with all of her little might the best series of moments she can possible muster. People, houses, trees, sky and happenings are not a break from important things, they are the most important things right now.

That day, I ran further and faster than I had most any other day, and still managed to be back at my desk in time for the next big meeting. As we were running, I didn’t think ahead to a temporary landmark deemed worthy of victory if only we could make it there. I didn’t waste my break trying to sneak in a few cognitive minutes of productivity.
I just ran, and breathed, and ran, and breathed.

When I got home, I sat down with Tina and thanked her like I always do for her company. But this time I laughed and poured over her with gratitude, renewed.

Dogs often get credited with teaching us powerful lessons, and through Tina’s happy example, I realized I had been using my runs as an act of running away. Each minute out, was one minute less I had to take a break from whatever I was stressing out about. I was missing all the important things right in front of me.

Now I challenge myself to truly experience each run and use this time every day to notice the beautiful, refreshing, and exciting things right in front of me. I don’t always manage to avoid the to-do list in my head, but Tina does a wonderful job tugging me back to the most important things.
Reminding me to simply: Run. Breathe. Run. Enjoy.

@positive.pixie
Erin M. Faverty