My Number Ran Without Me

By the time you read this letter post I will be in Northern California while my number navigates hill and dale (and aid station) in the Silver State 50/50 in Northern Nevada.  Rest assured, my number and I have parted ways as friends and I have no more stitches keeping me off the trail.  Still, #209 will be traipsing about the single track while I stand over a hole in the ground, while a dog screams his fool head off for 90 seconds (and does a whole bunch of other cool stuff too).

You see, this dog isn’t just any dog.  His name is Comet and he is very talented.  So talented he has an entire support staff.  He is well on his way to entering the Earthdog Hall of Fame and seems determined on setting a few breed records along the way.  He is a very special boy.  Very, very special.

Through no fault of his own, Comet found himself without a home-except he really did…with all of us. He is amazing.

The problem is that in our area, earthdog trials are few and far between while half marathons are a dime a dozen.  Okay, not exactly a dime a dozen ($50 x 12… yeah, definitely not a dime a dozen) but there are a lot of them.  But the there are only 3-4 earthdog trials a year and our next one isn’t until September.  This trial popped up on the schedule sort of last minute, long after I had entered Silver State.

Now, before you think I’ve gone soft or I have my priorities completely screwed up it was a really tough decision to make.  Really tough.  First, I couldn’t leave my amazing running partner Dianne hanging.  Second, I have been so looking forward to this challenging trail race.  On the other hand, Comet is truly talented.  He is a once in a lifetime dog and deserves the chance to do what he loves most in life: work.

There is more to the debate.  Plenty more.  But suffice to say after much discussion and waffling and worrying and spazzing out I decided I needed to do the trial, for Comet and for our breed.

Of course, I couldn’t leave a running sister hanging so I coerced convinced our fellow running sister Shelly that she really, really wanted to run Silver State in my place.  Fortunately, she was an easy sell.  While she hadn’t caved into the peer pressure gently (okay firmly) applied during our Tuesday night runs before the race closed, she was jonesing for another half when I talked to her last week.  Meanwhile, Carol sent in Comet’s entry to the trial and I got up at 3:00 am, loaded up the truck and made my way back to Northern California (for the third weekend in a row…).  So there you have it…The story of my second half fail this month.

Shelly and I running a race together in February. Go, Shelly!

To Dianne and Shelly:  You guys are amazing!  Good luck and I can’t wait to hear all about it on Tuesday!  I am totally missing out on an incredible adventure with two kick ass ladies.

To Comet:  Let’s do this, boy.

Advertisements