My dog Eros really is my best friend and most stalwart adventure buddy. He has been there with me for some of the roughest, sketchiest, and down right hard experiences of my life. We have traversed narrow ridgelines, climbed 14,000 foot mountains together, and crossed more freezing rivers on icy logs than any two sane creatures should. That being said, my boy is now 10 ½ years old and the hard reality is, he just can’t do some of those things anymore. More importantly, he doesn’t want to. Let me tell you, it is a difficult moment when you realize you and your best friend can no longer do all the same things you used to.
Now Eros is still a fit boy and we still run together 6 days a week. Each morning we get up and jog as best we can. Unfortunately, this has gone from consistently having him push my pace, to significant time running in place and high-knee jogging while he walks and sniffs. For a while, I would get angry at him because he was messing up my workout. He could still run when the wind blew in the right direction and he could smell the deer down the street. Why did it seem he could barely move along routes he was able to do just fine the day or week before? I imagine if you are dog owners, you understand this all too well. We don’t want to acknowledge the change, and we sure as heck don’t like anything messing up our routines. Either way, getting angry at my dog wasn’t solving anything, or easing any frustration. So I made a promise to stop and the question became, what needs to change?
First, I had to realize one very important thing, I could make him run with me. I could force him to speed up as best as he could, but the cost would be trust, my dog’s enjoyment, and ultimately more physical resistance. Basically, I could make him run at the cost of ruining our mornings and our bond. Alternatively, I could seek a path that worked for both of us. I could find a way that we both got what we wanted. That brings me to the next thing.
I was the only one who had a problem. Eros is completely happy walking, sniffing, and occasionally jogging. I was the one that wanted to run. It was my responsibility to find a way to adapt. Sure, sometimes I still have to make him move, and I still ultimately choose the direction we move in. But again, I’m the one that wanted change, so it was my responsibility.
Next was figuring out what I really wanted. The obvious answer is that I wanted to keep running in the mornings like I used to. That, however, is the same fixed thinking that found me getting frustrated so often in the first place. Not to say it’s a false statement, only that it wasn’t an answer that was going to serve me or provide a solution. I had to dig deeper if I was going to find an answer that could also provide a solution. I had to ask myself why I wanted to keep running.
Part of the answer was routine. Any change in a routine you have fully calibrated to always feels a little unwelcome. But that wasn’t all. I wanted to be able to maintain my athleticism and I didn’t think I could do that with him moving slower or walking a lot (note the limiting belief). Lastly, I wanted to keep doing “the hard thing” in the morning. I’ve never enjoyed the act of running, so pushing myself to do it and put effort in despite the challenge, set me up well for the day ahead.
What I actually wanted was to keep my morning fitness routine, maintain my athleticism, and continue to push myself. Those acknowledgments offered me a lot more wiggle room for solutions than just a desire to keep running. After all, there are a lot of options that fit these criteria.
As I started implementing some of these changes I realized I had one more thing in my way, my negative ego. Even though I was filling all the criteria I set for myself, I was still getting annoyed. I felt silly running in place and doing squats or crossovers (I still prefer to blend rather than be seen). Often, that aspect of ego is one of the biggest reasons we don’t change or take beneficial action on our own behalf. For me, it’s Adam Sandler’s voice in my head saying “They’re all gonna laugh at you!” And it was getting to me. I had to keep reminding myself of my promise to not get mad at him. Thankfully, when it comes to that insidious voice we have the option to flip the script and take ownership. Rather than allow ourselves to feel uncomfortable if someone (or our inner monologue) tells us we look ridiculous or makes some other depreciating remark, we can choose to make it a badge of honor rather than an insult. Or better yet, a Badge of Bravery for facing those voices and pushing ahead anyway.
Currently Eros and I are in a brand new place in a entirely different part of the country trying to figure out what the “new normal” is going to be for us. Thankfully, we already know what it takes to find our solution.
I want you to take a moment now and think about all the text above you. Use it as a reminder that even after you recognize a need for change, the process always takes time and effort. Most importantly though, I hope this has helped you recognize that going through the process can help you see that your life has more potential, more options, and more opportunity than you might think it does.