Canicrossing is a weird thing. My feelings for it are rather paradoxical… I would lie saying I don’t like (love) it, but its all apprehension the days, hours, minutes coming up to a race.
I walk to the start line with about the same feelings as when I sit in the dentist chair. Running it is a mix of adrenaline boost and pain. Off the starting line its not a race to win anymore, just a race to finish, to get it over with. Races are short but you have time to go through a few death wish, hope, despair; you want to give up but then give up the idea of giving up. You’re not sure if you want your dog to pull harder or just slack the pace, whatever, all options sounds painful. Finally that finish line appears…still too far… and there are all those people, and the cameras… Last little effort is to smile. Look like you’re having a blast. You cross the finish line and endorphin just shoot through your body. The smile becomes that silly grin of contentment. OMG that endorphin feels good, legs give up, you let yourself down to the ground, realize you should try breathing …. and that next thought that goes through your head makes you second guess your sanity. Lets do this again!
(thought from October 2014)
