Ice-packed road

Stepping off the plane last weekend really didn’t come as much of a shock despite the 60-plus degree difference in temperature from Arizona to Fargo.

When I finally made it out for a run Monday evening, Riley and I were treated to a gorgeous evening as we headed out along a familiar route. The pooch hasn’t had a lot of chances to run lately, and it’s something I constantly struggle with.

He always wants to run. But I’m also aware that he can’t log the same miles as me, plus sometimes I just need to get in marathon-specific training.

But the mild temperature after work proved to be perfect to get him back into the mix. After changing into my running gear and swapping out batteries in my headlamp, we headed down the street and soon found ourselves out in the country. And while I have yet to understand why he must stop to sniff just about everything we encounter, I’ve come to really enjoy these runs with him.

Our route turned out to be a little risky as I carefully ran on the ice-packed gravel road. I didn’t bring along my running cleats, so each stop along the run – during each of Riley’s sniffing episodes – required some careful maneuvering. The uneven and slippery surface proved to be a challenge on my ankle, but it also served as a good test of its agility and strength since the injury.

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