How my adopted dog saved my health
August 18, 2016 Ashley 0 Comments
Not long ago, I covered an article on how adopting a rescue pet saved an obese man’s life.
The dude (Eric was his name) was so portly, that he was planning for a premature expiration date.
However, after a visit to his doc and a grave wake up call, he recruited a dietician to keep him from dying. The advice he was given was this: go to the pound, pick out some poor, forgotten, furry creature, and take that pup for frequent walks. Eric did exactly that. He headed to the shelter, but, ever demonstrating a sense of humor, he told the caretaker he wanted someone as fat and middle aged as he was – so he wouldn’t feel so alone. After that, not only were his wishes granted (in the form of a pup called Petey), but something beyond his wildest dreams came true. He and Pete both lost a shiz ton of weight and had a happy run of years together. When Petey died down the road, Eric felt lost. But, eventually, another buddy came into his life – this one with the same energy Eric now had, thanks to where Petey got him during his time on earth.
I thought this story was beautiful. Not just because Eric went on to run marathons and do great things – but because it was such a testament to what our pets can do for our health. However, at the time I was writing this, I couldn’t find an angle where I could relate. (Something I try to do in every article.) I mean, I fancy myself a health nut. I was already running twice a day. And each time I departed home, my poor, lethargic, geriatric Shih-tzu, Minnie, didn’t even bother to lift her head to bid me adieu. She snoozed right through my comings and goings. My poor girl was near the end. Who knows – maybe that’s why I ran so much. I’m addicted to trail running; I do it too much, and it’s like a drug when painful reminders about reality arise. But, one day, it happened. Minnie died. Granted, I’m giving the Cliffs Notes version for the painful week I endured, but the end story’s that my buddy of a decade ultimately went to the great big party in the sky. And what’d I do? I ran even more. I trained at the dojo even harder. I had no reason to be there in my lonely home – so any time I wasn’t working, I was out destroying my body in “healthy” ways. I was in a sweat spiral.
Then, something happened.
About two or three weeks into my mourning, I met someone. He was a nice enough guy, very handsome, but – for both of us – the “it” factor just wasn’t there. You know what was there, though? A little dog – just the kind I like – who he was looking to find a forever home. Poor girl just wasn’t afforded the attention she deserved in a house full of other dogs. So, when I heard the magic words, “She’s yours if you want her”, I happily acquiesced. And, over the weeks, something very interesting transpired. I’d come home from work, errands, appointments – whatever – and, while I wanted to run, I also… didn’t want to. I wanted to spent time with my little Ellie (that’s her name). She’s still a puppy, so despite the midget limbs consistent with her breed (Pekingese/Shih-tzu), she can outrun me for a good ten minute sprint before starting to tire. My heart was being pulled in two different directions – the one where it wanted to pump faster for a good twenty minutes minimum outside, and the one where it wanted to pull Ellie toward it and cuddle on the sofa.
(“I know what the hip flexor stretch means! DON’T LEAVE ME, MOM!”)
That’s when I found a happy medium for my mutt ‘n I.
It happened one day when I came home from a nine hour day at work. The plan was to sneak into my room, slip on my running duds, slip back out, bang out a half hour, and return home to set Ellie free. That didn’t work. The moment she caught a glance of her guardian, she wailed in the cage, “BISH, release me! Let me out! LET ME LOVE YOU!” in perfect English. (Or, at least that’s how it seems when you fall in love with your dog.) I just couldn’t wait to play with my new buddy. Thus, we tried something different that day. I leashed up her furry body, bobbing with the excitement of my return, we got in the car, and we hit the trail together. For the first ten minutes, she ran with me (more like, left me in her dust), and for the ten after that? We did walking front lunges, walking side lunges, high knee running, and butt kickers – alternating between each for the length of the trail.
Once done, I was covered in salty body water, Ellie was happily panting, and we both went home content.
And what happened? Well, aside from calming down emotionally, the physical transformation was priceless. Within a week and a half, I was getting less Achilles pain. I didn’t wake aching as badly. My knees stopped throbbing chronically. Even my training at the dojo was improving, as I was moving better. And when I did run, each session was superior in quality. I felt stronger in my body. Why? Because, in lieu of tearing myself down every day, I was building up muscle to prevent future injury (aside: muscle also serves as a fat burning furnace, too). And, who’d’ve thunk it, but my pup was paramount in that process ever coming to fruition. Had it just been up to me, not having to concern myself with another’s needs, I’d still be ignoring my own – and obliterating my body slowly in order to appease my wild mind.
So, that’s the story of how my rescue pet’s already rescued my tendons, ligaments, fitness aspirations, and – most of all – sanity. Ellie saved me from myself in a way I never would’ve imagined; this is all stuff I’d been saying I’d start doing – subbing in my second run for some serious strength training. Yet, I never did because I wouldn’t do it just for myself. That wasn’t motivation enough. Much like chunky Eric who needed a wagging tail to curtail his laziness, it turns out that I needed one as well – to set my anti-laziness in a better, healthier direction. It’s funny, when I think about it. Because, despite my initial thoughts on our very distinct differences, it turns out that Eric and I are very alike, after all.
We both needed rescuing on our fitness paths – and our respective rescue pets did exactly that.