On dogs and joggers

Dogs and joggers don’t get along.  Imagine you come outside on perfect summer morning, breath in, taking in the clear blue sky, the leaves shining fresh in the sunlight, not a single cloud.  This is the kind of morning that King David sang about, one of the last lines in the book of Samuel:

וּכְאוֹר בֹּקֶר יִזְרַח שָׁמֶשׁ בֹּקֶר לֹא עָבוֹת מִנֹּגַהּ מִמָּטָר דֶּשֶׁא מֵאָרֶץ

And as the light of the morning (when) the sun shines; a morning without clouds, more than the light that follows the rain that falls upon the grass of the earth (Samuel II, 23:4)

You start running, picking up steady pace, feeling the gentle breeze, getting into a nice steady rhythm, and suddenly a dog barks, almost brushing against your ankle.  You jerk away, your heart jumps, your breathing gets off, and the pace is not so steady anymore.  Now you have to switch to walking to regain your breath and composure, few paces, a few more, now let’s run again.  Slowly, get back into the rhythm, pick up the pace, and then another dog starts barking, it’s two of them on a date, they forgot about each other, now they are both trying to pull away from their leashes, aiming at your calves, their owners throwing annoyed look as if it’s you distracting their dogs with your running. 

For me running is a solitary meditative activity.  I don’t listen to a radio or music while jogging.  It is my chance to be by myself, to blend with nature, to just forget all my troubles and enjoy the pure physical sensation while I can.  If only there were no dogs!  I switched to walking approaching a particularly large mean looking hound, contemplating life in some dog-less gated community, when I thought – this is how life is, always interrupted by something, you try to maintain some rational routine, thinking you picked up a certain pace, know where you are going, when unexpected happens, and your pace changes, your route zigzags, the contemplation breaks down, breath shortens, and it is so hard to pick up the pace, return to the path, keep going, stay put, only to reach the next obstacle, the next threat, and keep going.

Finally there is a long stretch of Manor Drive without dogs, nice paved road along manicured lawns, one block, then another.  Turning on Auburn I reach my destination – an outlook to the pond with the fountain and a blackberry tree, that lets the sun rays in through the green lattice, a perfect place for a sun salutation. I walk back between the two trees – a full round maple with rich dark green leaves, in a shape of a welcoming circle, and next to it an oak, its light slender leaves reaching high in the sky.