When it comes to exercise, dogs are smarter than we are.
A dog expresses enthusiasm without prejudice, reservations, or very much discrimination.
You never have to beg a dog to chase a ball. Yes! Yes! Let’s go! Throw the ball! Now!
For a dog, exercise isn’t a burden; it’s a challenge almost too exciting to bear. We’re running 10 miles today! Okay! Oh boy! Let’s start now! Why are you still sitting on the stairs?! Let’s go!
Dogs don’t waste time brooding over their mistakes. Hey! Wow! I didn’t catch the ball! Great! Throw it again! Throw it again!
Dogs don’t run for health or weight-loss or longevity. They run because, well, they love to run.
And when they don’t feel like running, they stop, wander under the porch, sniff the ground, turn around in a circle three times, lie down, and snooze.
I’ve started my Bow-Wow Training Plan. As my role models, I’ve chosen two runners who “train like dogs,” in the body-wiggling, tongue-hanging, tail-wagging, skipping and jumping sense.
In the 1970s, 2:14 marathoner Gary Fanelli was famous for showing up at races in Blues Brothers regalia – porkpie hat, white shirt, dark jacket, black tie and shades – and pushing the pace in the lead pack. (A photo in Runner’s World immortalized Gary’s Joliet “Jake” Blues persona.)
When psychologists studying elite runners tested Gary, he posted the highest scores they’d ever seen for positive attitude.
Gary still runs top times in his age group – last I heard, he’d clocked close to 50 minutes for 10 miles, at just under age 50. And he’s retained his offbeat humor – a Christmas card from Gary shows him reclining on the fender of a clapped-out car amid his collection of scrap metal.
No single person personifies the joy of running more than my second role model, Joe Henderson. Joe edited Runner’s World from 1970, four years after the magazine was founded, until 1985, when it was purchased by Rodale and moved to Pennsylvania. Joe stayed on as a columnist until 2003, when he was fired by the magazine’s increasingly marketing-driven publishers, who shifted its target demographic from John and Jane Runner to Brock and Tiffany Spandex. Too bad – for the magazine’s best 33 years, Joe was its heart and soul.
Joe never met a runner he didn’t like. Through his Marathon & Beyond column and books, he continues to express the thoughts of Every Runner. (Check Joe’s weekly “Running Commentary” articles at his website, www.joehenderson.com.)
Several years ago, Joe and I ran 10 miles of a marathon together. If you ever get a chance to run with Joe, don’t miss it. Out on the roads in a t-shirt and running shorts, Joe exudes joy. If Joe had a tail, he’d be barred from races – the wagging would endanger the other runners.
When I started running 41 years ago, at age 26, each run was an adventure. It was a chance to explore new thoughts, feelings, textures, sounds, smells, and places. I ran with the same joy on sand, pavement, grass, artificial tracks, and trails. I trained to the music of my own heart. But when I accepted a job at Runner’s World, I was introduced to the scientific approach, and the joy soon faded.
It would take me 20 years to realize that science raises more questions for a runner than it answers. Science studies small pieces of the training puzzle, and it rarely looks at the big picture. Tim Noakes, MD, author of the bestselling Lore of Running, notes that few actual studies of training methods have ever been published, because physiologists prefer to study single bodily systems in isolation.
I solved the training puzzle to my satisfaction when I realized that my body was telling me everything I needed to know to achieve fitness and enjoyment.
And, guess what? Good training turned out to be not much different from the tail-wagging, intuitive approach that got me started.
I spent 20 years testing dozens of training methods. Most led to dead ends. Now, four decades after I began, I’ve come full circle. I’m following the Bow-Wow Training Plan, which calls for running with the gusto of a hound dog.
Yeah, it’s Spike here, scratching the door. I’m ready to run!
