Run Only If Chased

Against my better judgment, I decided to take Rocco and Frankie for a long walk on the beach yesterday. We had taken a few walks together this week without incident, so it seemed like a pretty good idea.

What do I mean by ‘without incident’? Oh, well, being a Jack(ass) Russell Terrier, Rocco can be a bit…unpredictable? He’s usually good with dogs his own size, but he has been known to attack the ones that could snap him like a stick.

They’re supposed to be a ‘smart’ breed. Not so much. I think that’s what JRT owners tell themselves to make them feel better about adopting the little psychopaths.

Just to stay on the safe side, I always leave Rocco’s leash on him. You know, so I can easily grab it/him when he gets a little unruly. I learned that little trick after about 874 incidents where he would run circles around a dog and/or its owner to evade me. So embarrassing.

Anyway, we took a nice, healthy walk down the beach – me listening to music; Rocco and Frankie stopping every 12 steps to pee – when I caught a flash of them in my peripheral vision running greyhound-style off the beach and up the dune to one of the tumbling multi-million dollar houses. That could only mean one thing: there was a critter to be had.


Needless to say, they completely ignored me. After a split-second’s thought of pretending they didn’t belong to me and leaving them to fend for themselves, I took off running after them.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate running? I mean really hate it. I’m built for comfort, not for speed. I get winded just walking up the stairs.

As I ran up the dune, I saw the head and back of what appeared to be a large fox.

Me: FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!!!

I had nothing but my iPhone with me and I totally didn’t have time to download a shotgun app! What was I going to do if I caught up with them?? Wrestle the fox off of my dogs??

Turns out foxes are really skittish and (fortunately) able to leap tall fences in a single bound. Or something like that. All I know is, by the time I caught up with them, there was no sign of the fox. My two idiots, on the other hand, were still on the prowl – moving in opposite directions under two different houses as I yelled at the top of my lungs for them.

Total. White. Trash.

After a few minutes they must have come to the harsh realization that I was their ride home, so they skulked back to me.


OK, so I didn’t exactly beat them, but I wanted to. Instead, I lectured them the whole way home, which is worse than a beating (ask my son).

My horrid barefoot run (through sand!!) made me think of my ever-growing list of marathon-running friends. I see their posts on Facebook and I can’t help but think…freaks! Crazy, crazy freaks! I mean, it’s one thing to run a mile or two to keep in shape or whatever, but 10+ miles? Well, that’s just showing off.

Because I’m a bit poop-obsessed (I’m not proud), my mind naturally goes to what if you have to poop when you’re running? Guess what, you guys…they just go ahead and poop. While they’re running.

I try not to judge people. I really do. But that’s just fucked up.

And by ‘fucked up’, I mean impressive! No, really! Congratulations on your perseverance, your determination and your ability to push your body (and your dignity) to its limits.  I mean that from the bottom of my…spinal cord.

I kid because I love.


3 thoughts on “Run Only If Chased

  1. I’ve been practicing for my first 5k in the spring with a goal of a 1/2 marathon next year. Want to join me? The dogs would never get that far ahead of you if you trained.

  2. Thanks for thinking of me, Vera, but I think I’ll pass. Don’t forget to take your TP with you, tho. I’ll need a complete briefing when you’re finished. 🙂

  3. As for one that is built for comfort as well, I can’t help but think – why were you so worried, no one in the houses were probably even there, I would think that you coudl set up shop on one of their decks and watch the crazy dogs from above. As for poop, just come to any sit down dinner at my house, it always comes up as a topic of conversation, I may have to ask about marathon runners at the next dinner.

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