Running with the big dogs.

I recently decided I needed to stop being such a wuss, man up and face the cold Kansas winter head on. So for the second or third week in a row (I can't remember which, my brain is still frozen), I slapped on every piece of moisture-wicking clothing I could find and took to the streets for my long, Sunday-morning run. And as insane as it sounds, I've really enjoyed it. There's something completely gratifying about being the only idiot out on the road and a special, internal pride about the level of dedication it takes to run in a homemade ski mask and gloves. This week, I even mixed up my route and hit a couple of city parks and unfamiliar neighborhoods which offered a welcomed distraction from my numb extremities. So, relatively speaking, I was feeling pretty good as I re-entered our neighborhood and headed for home, however it was at this point that I was reminded that breaking away from the monotony of the treadmill also meant opening yourself up to little "surprises."

That said, I was probably two blocks from home when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a front door swing open and a chocolate-brown blur named Tank heading my way. Surprise! Now most people probably would have a) frozen in their tracks b) instinctively opened it up a notch or b) pooped themselves. Me? I turned and greeted all 85 pounds of the glistening-gummed, appropriately named Tank. You see, while something as benign as a ferris wheel can scare the bejesus out of me, dogs just don't. Plus, I'd met Tank before, we had a rapport. However, as he barreled down upon me, it seemed clear that he had forgotten (either that or he didn't recognize me from my two-and-a-half inches of exposed skin). So, with his owner frantically trailing behind, Tank was quickly at my feet, snarling, barking and all around doing a bang-up impersonation of Cujo—to which I calmly lowered my glove-covered hand to let him get a whiff of what he was about to eat. And that, as anti-climatic as it was, was it. We were buddies again, which may or may not have been a good thing, because moments later he jumped up on my chest and basically de-pants me as he slide down my body. Luckily, I was wearing layers.