Evolution of a Runner and Thoughts on Life and Death

Monday was solstice and I made a commitment to myself to get moving. So far this week I have been successful. Lifting, doing my abs and core work, my hip strengthening exercises, and running and walking. My neighbor has helped, she's been off work after hand and wrist surgery so she can't do her usual yoga, and we decided to walk while she is unable to do her routine, which helps me get out the door.

It's been cold and I haven't been running a lot, I did an hour on Monday and a little over a half hour each on Tuesday and today. I will try for an hour of running tomorrow even though it's supposed to be super cold. But Christmas and any big holiday have always been my favorite times to run because traffic tends to be light, people tend to be in a decent mood, at least less likely to run you over. I'm sure that will all change on the 26th when the shopping frenzy resumes.

I was thinking a bit about how I've evolved as a runner. For me it has never been a straight line, I have gone back and forth with being competitive and non-competitive, being highly driven and laid back. I love to run and I am thinking about finding some fun adventures to do in the coming year, though they won't be about racing or being competitive. I am ready to explore some trails and places I've been wanting to go but my specialized training for roads and my ankle problems never allowed me to put much effort into it. I have some new running partners who are also on-foot adventurers, and one of them is as much a photo freak as I am, and I find myself looking forward to their company.

Tomorrow is Christmas. We are taking it easy, having one friend over and that's it. I made tortilla soup and I got some stuff for quesadillas, and baked some cookies. After two tries on the cookies I finally did it right. I don't know why but cooking in the kitchen has been disastrous this week, I attribute it to the lack of a kitchen supervisor watching me. Isabelle took over Iris's position, and she was getting good at it. But now it's just me. Cooking is not nearly as much fun without Buffaloes.

We got Isabelle's ashes back last night. Dennis cried as he walked in the house with her, having picked her ashes up on his way home from work. A little turquoise box. It's almost an affront to fourteen years of companionship. But that's the way they do it, and now we have them both back.

It's so strange to receive the remains of your dog, the whole, wiggly, soft, furry, loving, interacting, communicating, responsive creature, in the form of a little cheesy-looking box in baby turquoise blue with a little pawprint charm attached to it, with some fake flowers to top it off. Now Iris and Isabelle are both home for Christmas, sitting together on top of the dresser, next to the hedgehog and bone pillow they each loved.

I remember how Iris and Isabelle used to run and could go forever, running circles around us, covering ten times the distance we did. Then they gradually slowed down, going from running Dennis's pace to my pace, to slower than me, then just walking, and in Isabelle's case, barely walking, until she could only go places being pushed in the cart.

I miss my girls, but I wouldn't have wanted to prolong either of their lives beyond where they both ended. I wouldn't have subjected Iris to being reliant on medications to prevent her from having seizures until she got so bad that she herniated, and I wouldn't have wanted Bella to keep losing her balance, falling, not being able to get up without help, losing bowel and bladder control, and living with the pain in her joints.

I know I'll keep moving as long as I can. I just hope that by the time I am unable to move forward on my own feet, that I or someone will be able to help me end my life when I feel like there's no reason to live. I hope by then we have more progressive laws that allow for that to happen for humans.

Death is a part of life and we're all going to die someday so we might as well accept our mortality and live each day the best that we can. If more people would not avoid thinking about and discussing death, and learn to face it as a normal part of what happens in our lives, and deal with the reality of it, we would be so much better off.

We would live our lives better, take better care of ourselves and each other, spend so much less on medical interventions, and we would finally expand palliative care to be a major part of medicine and health care. Instead of treating people as diseases, we could treat them as people who need help either healing or being made more comfortable.

The days are getting longer, and that means more daylight to enjoy each day. Only one more week until spring. Full speed ahead!

Day 29: A Visit

It's 20 degrees outside, which is a good thing. It's been cloudy and the temperatures haven't gone so high as to melt the snow, but it hasn't been so cold that we lose Internet connection. I woke up to a cloudy morning, but it looks like they are breaking up and we could get a spot or two of blue and sunshine later.

Last night I woke up around 2:30 feeling hot, as usual, and went into the guest bedroom to lie down on the bed in there, where it was much cooler. I was just starting to find a comfortable position, and I felt a sudden weight land on the end of the bed, near my feet. Nothing could explain it except Iris. She would have jumped up on the bed with me in that exact spot if she were here. I know it was her paying us a visit.

I think she hangs out at the top of the stairs, watching over us, the way she used to. Isabelle is always looking up there, even when she knows that Dennis and I are both downstairs. Iris is watching over all of us.

Since my NaBloPoMo effort has been mostly a success, while NaRunMoMo turned out disappointingly due to my respiratory crud, I will attempt to re-start, if not all running, at least regular workouts, tomorrow. Mondays were always the beginning of my training week. I have the bike set up, and I feel like the crud has mostly subsided, except for still coughing up nasty looking stuff in the mornings.

My legs feel like they want to jump out of my skin and my body feels like it's been tied up in knots and needs to be stretched and moved, and I absolutely MUST get back to something. I have a lot more desk work to do before I can start spending more time up and active at work. I feel like a pile of melted butter from my ribs to my knees.

There's only more day in November after today, and then spring is right around the corner, on January 1. It might be too cold for Isabelle to be in the cart some days, but I can load bags of mulch in it for traction on the snow and start getting my outdoor workouts in.

Iris would not have let me idle for so long, she kept me moving all the time. I have a busy work week ahead, but I'll set my phone to prompt me every day that I need to get the workout in.

The bark tone on my phone sounds just like Iris's bark. Get your butt out the door, mom!

Obituary: Iris Leck

Iris left this world on August 14, 2015 after a brief, unexpected illness.

She was born on Mother’s Day, May 13, 2001 in Gilbert, AZ. Seven weeks later, a puppy with a semicircle above her nose bounded over her littermates to greet us and stole our hearts.

Iris lived up to her name, her iridescent personality and charm won the admiration of all who met her. She was also known as The Buffalo and The Dominator. Gregarious, happy, and vocal, she was eager to greet everyone she met: people, especially her neighbors; dogs, cats, squirrels, and bumblebees.

She loved runs and walks, hikes in the mountains, motorcycles, UPS trucks, watermelon, Peeps at Easter, spray whipped cream, sprinklers and the hose, playing tug of war with the leash, squirrels, grooming her sister, birthday pupcakes, and Starbucks pup cups.

Iris was affectionate, loving, caring, sensitive, devoted, and brilliant. She had a sense of humor, she laughed with us when things were funny, she greeted us with a smile every day and knew how to use her paw to her advantage. The entire neighborhood knew when her mom or dad returned from a day of work or a long trip by her announcement at the front door.

Iris was the life of the household, there was never any question about what to do next. She guided our schedule from morning buttrubs to evening walks, and reminded us when it was time for treats and dessert. She was her mom’s constant companion and leg warmer as she worked from home. Iris always knew if there was a camera around, she was ready at any moment to pose for a picture.

Iris loved to cook. She was the household kitchen supervisor and had to know what was going on at all times. Iris was a video and media star, playing the lead role and featured in several cooking videos, the film version of The Most Interesting Dog in the World, and The Daily Buffalo newsletter chronicling her life with her sister as puppies.

She is survived by her mom Alene and dad Dennis, her sister Isabelle, grandparents, and many cousins, uncles and aunts in Arizona, California and Colorado, and the hedgehog, snake, scorpion, duck, hamburger, wahoo ball, “the fris”, and other well-chewed toys.

Iris taught us all a lesson in how to live our lives: with joy and adventure every day. To quote her sister Isabelle, “The only thing better than an Australian Shepherd is two Australian Shepherds!”

Please leave a comment or share your memories of Iris on her mom’s (Alene Nitzky) Facebook page, or here on her mom’s blog at www.alenegonebad.blogspot.com.