My dog, future marathoner?

This is Tika. She may look like an ordinary dog, but she is actually some sort of super-canine cyborg.

I decided to take her running with me this morning, just to see what would happen. She's almost 4 years old, so she is certainly fully grown, and she is used to walking 2 hours a day, so I really didn't think a short 25-30 minute run would be beyond her abilities. I was hoping to let my husband sleep in peace--or at least more peace than he would have if I left both dogs behind. (Apparently my two dogs bark and howl like maniacs if I go for a morning run without them. My husband is not pleased by this, as he is generally still asleep when I leave.)

I have never attempted to run with Tika before, and I was a little nervous. If I run around inside the house to get the phone or go to the front window, she barks and either gets in front of me or jumps up and smacks my back with her front paws. And when we go for a walk, we don't so much "walk" as "go on patrol." She is always looking for squirrels and chipmunks, and if she sees a squirrel, she will leap six feet up a tree trunk to bark at it and make it skitter around and curse at her in squirrel-ese. I think she feels harrying the squirrels is her mission in life.

I put on her normal leash and collar, no fancy harnesses or anything, and did my usual walking warmup. She acted a little nuts, as she usually does during the first few minutes of a walk.

And then I started running.

It actually improved her behavior!

She still looked up at the trees, and a few times she started to stalk a squirrel or move toward one, but all I had to do was say, "No, no stalking" and keep running, and she ran right along with me. She generally stayed on my left, maybe a foot ahead of me, and ran with me like she'd been doing it all her life. I think the rapid forward motion toned down her other drives a little. She definitely enjoyed moving at a less snail-like pace, although it was clearly just another walk to her. She stopped to pee a few times, catching me off guard every single time--one second she was full speed ahead, the next she was at a dead stop and squatting, and a second after that it was like she'd never stopped. She did not linger, I'll give her credit for that.

She had no trouble at all keeping up with me and probably would have liked to run faster, but I am still in recovery mode and was trying not to overexert myself. It's surprising how much cardio fitness can fly right out the window in two weeks.

I was watching her carefully and was ready to stop if it looked like she needed to, but we went through Mile 1 fresh as a daisy. About a quarter mile later, a chipmunk ran across the street right in front of us. That pushed every single one of her buttons, and she pulled hard toward the chipmunk, throwing me off balance for a second, but I just kept running, and she quickly realized her only choices were a) continue pursuing chipmunk and get yanked away from it or b) abandon chase, stay with Mom. Thankfully, she chose b).

The next challenge was a short but steep hill. I ran this hill many times in training, and at first I had to walk up most of it, but within a few months, I just had to take shorter steps and slow down a bit to get to the top. Tika had absolutely no problem with it--and surprisingly, neither did I. The slower pace no doubt helped.

We ran through Mile 2 still going great guns and turned for home. I didn't use the timer for this run either, but I did wear my watch and noted the time when we started and stopped. As best as I can figure, we covered 2.4 miles in 28 minutes for an 11:40 pace, which is about where I want to be right now.

So Tika ran almost two and a half miles on her very first try, and she spent most of her time running very nicely in heel or near-heel position! What more could you ask for? The only sign she was at all winded was her somewhat larger tongue at the end.

Here's the part that makes me think she's a cyborg: I drank some water, stretched, changed clothes and had breakfast before feeding her. All of that took 30-45 minutes. The second the last piece of kibble went down her gullet, she ran to the door and looked at me all bright-eyed: "Well, it's time for our walk! Let's go!" It was like the run had never happened.

We walked for an hour, and she was her usual bouncy squirrel-harassing self.

(Why can't I muster that kind of energy?!?!?)