Exercise (and play) are privileges.

This lesson I thought about early this morning on  my run. I hate waking up in the morning, and I'm at that point in my relationship with running that I don't really like running that much either. Higher altitude, no humidity. Blah. But as I'm running this morning, I realize how excited Grace and Pete get when I so much as touch one of their leashes or start putting on my iPod. Running is a privilege, in more ways than one.

There are many people that aren't able to run for a variety of reasons, and as much as I sometimes despise it, at least my body is capable of doing it (at least for a little while). This fact became excruciatingly obvious this past week as one of best friends was hit with a brain infection. One day shy of his first deployment to Afghanistan, he was hit with a massive seizure. Rounds of test dispelled the initial fear of a tumor and diagnosed him with an "infection." The details still aren't very clear, but hopefully after rounds of high speed antibiotics the swelling will go down and he'll get his wish to still deploy at the end of October. This was, and is, an otherwise healthy 25 year old soldier who on Saturday morning could have run five miles without thinking. Nothing is a guarantee. Spending a good couple hours in an ICU will solidify that. Our friend was the youngest in the ICU by a good 50 years, and honestly the only one that was able to get out of his bed by his own free will. Nurses were trying to keep the other patients comfortable and medicated, while they were just trying to keep Josh on hospital grounds. The woman lying next to him Sunday night was not there Monday morning. Nothing is a guarantee.

So it's epiphanies like this that make me not hate running so much. What if this was my last run? Would it be a good one? Would I have pushed myself as far as I could? Should I have brought both the dogs with me? See, running with the pups is like being on a bench press, doing a dead sprint, and rowing all at the same time. As mentioned earlier, Pete isn't quite able to run on a loose leash yet and Grace is becoming increasingly fascinated with the innumerable jack rabbits. I've heard the Gentle Leader is a good investment for larger dogs. Being able to control my rhinos with a  swift flick of the wrist is very enticing. I tried buying a coupler so I would only have to hold one leash, but Pete's giant rib cage kept bumping Grace off the sidewalk and she ended up crabbing (running sideways) most of the way. Not to mention, trying to rein in our two dogs with one arm will require a couple more push-ups and bicep curls. Pete did heel a little and walk beside me for a little while, but that was a combination of him being tired and me having him in a choke hold. Grace needs a harness because she used to pull so hard the fur on her neck started thinning.

I know my blood isn't quite thin enough yet for me to really enjoy running here, but hopefully I'll get there soon. Chris and I are starting our marathon training on Tuesday so I need to get used to this real quick! The El Paso marathon is February 2 and that is a long four months away. Through my dogs' eyes, running is the best gift in the world (although Pete might argue it's fetch). So tomorrow morning when the alarm goes off at 5:15 am, I'll try to be a little less grumpy and a little more grateful.